


Looking for Trouble

by flight_feather



Series: Shadows of Kadara [1]
Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Action & Romance, Canon-Typical Violence, Custom Female Ryder | Sara, Eventual Smut, F/M, Falling In Love, Fix-It of Sorts, Minor canon divergence, Shameless Smut, Smut, because I have a Reyes problem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-10-31 17:44:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 37,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10904271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flight_feather/pseuds/flight_feather
Summary: Laz Ryder needed a break from being Pathfinder. Her first trip to Kadara was certainly intended to help the angara, but she had bigger plans involving some badly-needed recreational troublemaking. Then trouble walked into Kralla's Song and said she looked like she was waiting for somebody.





	1. Trouble Walked Into a Bar

**Author's Note:**

> This generally follows the timeline of the Kadara/Reyes missions, with some additions of my own. Partly because I'm annoyed at the lack of screen time for my new favorite bad boy, and partly because I needed to work through my headcanon of Ryder's acceptance of Reyes as he is.
> 
> The chapters alternate Ryder/Reyes, so if you're not interested in custom Ryders or internal character musings on the main story, you can skip to Reyes.

Kadara. A planet full of outcasts and exiles, people who couldn’t make the most of their chances in two galaxies. Vetra’s email about the place was full of “survival tips”: Asking about the Charlatan is dangerous. Be careful of Sloane. If you don’t have the biggest stick, use the stick you have in a creative way.

Sounded like fun. 

Not that Heleus was boring; far from it. But Ryder hadn’t come here expecting or even wanting to be the Pathfinder. Yet here she was, dealing with the weights of Alec’s reputation and Cora’s resentful disappointment at being passed over, with the pressing needs of the colonists on the Nexus and the omnipresent AI in her head that let her use Remnant tech. She needed a break, and Kadara seemed like the place to find it. Already settled, so no need to take a squad everywhere in port. She could meet this angaran Resistance contact on her own, unarmored even, and have a drink. 

Was it a wise decision? Probably not. Lazuli Ryder had a reputation for cocky cleverness, not wisdom. And besides, she wanted to be just another nobody today. 

Kralla’s Song was nicer than she was expecting. The music was good and the bar was clean. The reek of stale alcohol was cut by the underlying stench of sulfur that tainted everything she’d smelled since stepping off the ship, but even that seemed to fit. Not seeing any angara, she wandered up to a sober-ish salarian leaning against a rail and passed a few minutes listening to him talk about some operation called the Collective before approaching the bar. She watched idly as a krogan tried to get out of paying his tab, impressed by the asari bartender’s management of the situation. This was definitely her type of place.

“You look like you’re waiting for someone.”

A shiver ran over her at the accented voice and rich tones. She turned, taking in the speaker...and then taking another, slower appraisal. He was tall, but not too tall. Handsome, and he knew it. Lean without being scrawny, with a graceful swagger that suggested he was all muscle and confidence. Deep golden skin, amber eyes, and slicked-back black hair completed a package that seemed gift-wrapped just for Laz Ryder.

Smirking devilishly at her open admiration, the stranger leaned against the bar and signaled for two drinks. She accepted the one he offered without hesitation, saying “I’ve got time for a drink.” _And more than that later, handsome…_ They clacked the solid cups together and drank.

“Shena,” he introduced himself. “But you can call me Reyes. I hate code names.” 

Ryder didn’t quite manage to hide her surprise. _He_ was her _angaran_ contact? This job was quickly shaping up to be far more interesting than she’d bargained for. She took the hand he offered her in a solid grip, liking that he didn’t try to overpower her. “I was expecting someone more....angaran,” she admitted. His answering chuckle could have been condescending from someone else, but from him, it sounded...intimate. Like he was about to let her in on a secret.

“The Resistance pays me to supply information - among other things.” He paused, watching her neutrally. 

“So you’re a smuggler.” 

Mouth quirked in a small smile, he tilted his head side to side noncommittally, then nodded away from the bar to an open viewport and explained the situation with Vehn Terev. She didn’t miss the way he avoided answering her statement, or the way his voice edged into scorn at the mention of Sloane Kelly. Ryder wasn’t sure what to make of Sloane; to be honest, she didn’t blame any of the exiles who took part in the rebellion on the Nexus. Dealing with Tann and Addison made her want to rebel after an hour, let alone months of their crap. It was what she’d seen on the streets of Kadara Port, people being beaten into unconsciousness over protection money, that had her on edge. Sloane had left the liars and petty politics of the Nexus to set herself up as a dictator. A violent one who extorted her people. 

“Dress it up however you want, she’s a criminal.” 

Reyes gave her a weighing glance, appearing to choose his next words carefully. “You work for the Initiative. Sloane was part of the uprising on the Nexus. I doubt she’ll give Vehn up easily.” He was off the mark on Ryder’s motivations, but probably right about Slone. Ryder was willing to try making a deal with Sloane though, if only to get relations with the Resistance solidly nailed down. It sucked, but the angara were her priority here. 

“You work Sloane, I’ll talk to the Resistance,” Reyes offered, before abruptly turning and striding away. _The fuck?_

“How do I contact you if things go south?” she shouted after him. 

His answering wink was as infuriating as it was sexy. _Playing hard to get, eh?_

A shout rang out from the bar. “Hey! You gotta pay!” Not wanting a repeat of the incident with the krogan, Ryder transferred the credits. _Bastard_ , she thought. Still...he was just the type to use for scratching a certain itch, and she wouldn't have to feel bad when she left him in the Tempest's exhaust.

***

She caught up with Reyes again after her irritating interview with Sloane Kelly. The woman grated on Ryder’s nerves with her arrogance, and Ryder found herself slipping into increasingly mocking responses. It got her nowhere but dismissed, and it was with frustration that she met Vidal by the market.

He had a solution, of course. He seemed the kind of man who could talk his way into, or out of, any situation, and still succeed somehow when words failed. It was attractive. It didn't stop her calling him out on sticking her with the bar tab though. 

“I’m usually the model gentleman,” he protested. Falsely, and with humor. _Bastard_ , she reminded herself for the tenth time.

She called bullshit on that one and got an invitation to drinks at Tartarus, wherever that was. He was probably still lying but damn if she wouldn’t take him up on that invitation, bastard or not. 

***

Freeing Vehn Terev went off without a hitch. Asking directions for Tartarus sent her towards the slums via the docks. She fully intended to celebrate the victory, however small in her book of victories to date, with a certain smuggler who owed her a drink. 

“Hey!” a flanged, turian voice called as she approached the lift. “Ryder, what the hell do you think you’re doing, going down to the slums dressed like that?”

Ryder glanced down at her casual jacket and trousers, then up at Vetra. “Huh? What’s wrong with the way I’m dressed?”

Vetra crossed her arms, cocked a hip, and sighed. “Not enough armor,” she replied patiently. “Bad enough you go around the upper levels practically naked. You can’t do the same down in the slums. Get geared up. I’ll come with you.”

“Vetra…” Ryder desperately wanted just to go down and celebrate, _privately_ , but Vetra was insistent in the annoying manner of a big sister talking to an idiot younger sibling. “No. Get your gear. The people down there have nothing to lose and they won’t give a shit if you’re the Pathfinder. Go.” Thoroughly cowed, Ryder slunk back aboard the ship and armored up. 

“Trouble, kid?” rumbled a krogan voice as she started to leave again. 

“No, Drack, Vetra’s just playing big sister again.”

Drack eyed her. “Probably a good idea. I’ll come, too.”

“No!” Ryder yelped. “I’m just going for drinks!”

The krogan grinned widely. “Heh. If Vetra’s making you gear up, it’s because you’re going for drinks in Tartarus. I like Tartarus. I’m coming.”

“Fine.” Ryder stomped off the Tempest, krogan bodyguard in tow, shortly to be joined by her turian minder. “If we're all going down there anyway, we might as well head out to the badlands afterward and check on the monoliths. You guys are totally cramping my style, by the way,” she grumped.

“Not as cramped as you'd be with a shiv in the kidney,” Vetra quipped unapologetically. 

“Pathfinder,” SAM joined in from her omnitool, “scans of reports from the slums suggest that Quartermaster Nyx and Nakmor Drack are not wrong in their suggestions.”

“See?” the old warrior chuckled. Vetra just flared her mandibles in a turian grin. 

“Traitor,” Ryder muttered darkly. “And since when were you Quartermaster?”

“Since I acquired the Tempest and everything on it for you?”

Ryder mulled that over for a moment. “Fair enough. Congratulations on your promotion,” she snarked.

***

Reyes had news for her when she arrived at his private room in Tartarus. She took in the darkened space and his raised eyebrows at her babysitters, and shrugged. They could party another time. It was still gratifying to hear Vehn Terev had made it off Kadara. “You helped. A little,” she allowed. 

“Always nice to be recognized,” he murmured, toasting her. 

Suddenly she was curious. “Your code name. Shena. What’s it mean?” 

“It’s the angaran word for...mouth.” He cleared his throat. “I’m good with words.”

Oh, this was too much of an opportunity to pass up, even with Vetra and Drack at her back and listening to the whole conversation. “Among...other things?”

Vidal looked her up and down, slowly, evaluating. “Never had a complaint.”

Well shit. That sent all kinds of images rushing through her head. The two of them sprawled across the bed of the Pathfinder’s Quarters on the Tempest, her gasping in pleasure as he kissed and nibbled his way lower...lower…

Abruptly she realized she was just staring at him and fought to regain her equilibrium. In an attempt to cover for her lapse she asked him about his role in the mutiny on the Nexus, relieved to find that he had had no part in “that shitshow”, as he called it. He thought he could do better than Tann, so he left. She didn’t blame him; she couldn’t stand the slimy politician either, and Reyes was clearly a man of action. 

His responses to her question about the Collective balanced out his earlier too-quick answer about the Charlatan, although he dodged her follow-up on the difficulty of trusting a leader with that name. Which was then balanced out with pointing her to a cave in Draullir. What was he hiding, and whose side was he on? Not Sloane’s. Definitely leaned toward the Resistance, and had sympathies for the Collective, but if trouble came calling, where would Reyes Vidal stand? 

“You need a friend,” he suggested as she was leaving. “Someone on the inside to help you out. I can be that guy.” 

She wasn’t sure about that, but it would give her another excuse to come back. Aside from the drinks that he still owed her, that is. 

_Smooth bastard. What’s his angle?_


	2. A New Contact

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The human Pathfinder is not what Reyes was expecting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is some smut in this chapter.

A small chirp interrupted the thoughts chasing themselves in circles in Reyes’ head. He glanced at his omnitool and cleared the meeting reminder, surprised to find he’d been mulling over the issue of the human Pathfinder much longer than he’d realized.

He’d spent the morning in the private room in Tartarus, reviewing every scrap of information he could find on the woman. Watching and re-watching the vidclips of her keynote speeches on Eos and Voeld after successfully making those planets viable for settlement. Poring over reports from rescued Resistance fighters on Voeld and scientists on Havarl. Trying to assemble a picture of humanity’s most visible player in Heleus, the newest power piece on the board, to figure out her strengths, her weaknesses, where she could best be used to his advantage. To the Collective’s advantage. 

Reyes wasn’t quite sure what to make of the image he was getting. In the vids she was formal, short, and even slightly uncomfortable. On the other hand, reports from Resistance contacts praised her open communication and easy nature. Buxil, one of the fighters involved in gathering intel from that massive kett installation on Voeld, swore that Ryder had taken out the facility with just herself, a small squad consisting of a turian and a krogan, and some kind of super-powered AI to hack their way in. 

The turian and the krogan interested Reyes; both were known to him from his role as a minor but thriving smuggler, and were not the sort of people he would have expected to find on an Initiative team. More interesting was the talk of this AI. He needed to get the Pathfinder - and her AI - on his side. It could boost his information network and his plans for deposing Sloane would be on an accelerated timetable if he could sway the Pathfinder to favor the Collective. While this may have started out as a job for Evfra, it had turned into a top priority for the Collective as he saw the opportunities that could be gained. 

On the walk over to Kralla’s Song he considered his options. As far as anyone on the Nexus was concerned, everyone on Kadara was a criminal. Convincing them that his nebulous Collective represented a better choice than Sloane’s hardline Outcasts wouldn’t be easy, and an Initiative soldier probably wouldn’t be susceptible to a smuggler’s charms, no matter how considerable Reyes knew his charms to be. She probably couldn’t be bought, bullied, or threatened with the Initiative behind her, either. Kidnapping her crew was out of the question; he knew enough about Nakmor Drack to want to avoid a situation that would escalate into a confrontation with the old warrior. Blackmail? He didn’t know enough about her yet. That left...manipulation and proving his usefulness.

Reyes snorted a laugh and shook his head ruefully at how quickly he’d jumped to underhanded methods. This wasn’t another criminal he was dealing with. It was a representative of the Initiative acting on behalf of the angara. Maybe he should try just talking to her, like they were normal people.

He spotted her immediately on entering the bar. That blue hair stood out even in Kadara Port, and with turquoise-hazel eyes, high cheekbones, and full lips she was even prettier in person than on the vids. The leather jacket, scarf, and casual trousers were a surprise. He’d expected her in armor in a port with Kadara’s reputation. Reyes watched her a few moments more, trying to get a feel for her, before bypassing the salarian Collective recruiter and walking up to the bar with his cockiest stride. “You look like you’re waiting for someone,” he said, going for the low, soothing tones he used to placate difficult clients. Her reaction was completely unexpected. 

The Pathfinder turned, looking professionally bored, taking him in. Then took him in again, more slowly, eyes roving down and then back up his body with obvious interest. He watched her pupils dilate and her lips part in the moments between the professional mask slipping and her eyes meeting his again.

Oh, this was good. This was very good. An Initiative soldier and representative of the Nexus...but still a woman beneath it all. One with an appetite, from the look of it. Reyes Vidal had no qualms about mixing business with pleasure if the situation allowed it. Sex was a tool like any other, and he was nothing if not thorough in his usage of all the tools available to him. 

He smiled lightly, then leaned languidly against the bar to order two drinks, aware of the Pathfinder’s eyes on him. She took the drink he offered, the first step towards building her trust in him. She looked young, certainly younger than he. Why was she looking for help in Kadara Port? Was she inexperienced? Stupid? Desperate? 

Not inexperienced or stupid, he decided after some conversation. Her eyes narrowed when he sidestepped her questions, although she allowed him to get away with it, and somewhere along the line she’d learned not to be so stuck on principles as to pass up the chance to make a deal. That left desperate. It seemed getting the angara on her side was important. How important? He decided to gamble, ending their conversation abruptly and walking away after offering to talk to his contacts. 

For a moment he thought she was just going to let him leave, felt mildly disappointed at having misread her. Then…

“How do I contact you if things go south?”

He turned slowly, allowed satisfaction to show on his face as a charming smile. Winked, and kept walking. Umi played her part beautifully as he knew she would, calling out for the Pathfinder to pay for the drinks he’d ordered, and he made his escape. 

***

The walk back to Tartarus after delivering the solvent and codes she’d need to extract Vehn Terev found him deep in thought once again. The Pathfinder was not what he had expected, not at all. Limited intel didn’t play into it; he decided that she was simply unquantifiable without having had a direct meeting. Seemed to know what was expected of her, but chose to adhere to it, or not, based on whom she was interacting with. In a speech to the Nexus colonists, she was stiff and formal, if not quite saying what was typical. Working with the angara, she met their openness with her own, showed them what she was capable of to earn their trust. 

And interacting with a Kadaran smuggler, an attractive and useful nobody, turned her into pure mercury. Despite her initial lustful reaction, she flowed along with his feints like someone long accustomed to working with those hiding ulterior motives. Didn’t make a fool of herself trying to take back control she didn’t have, but clearly took note of where he was keeping information from her. That kind of unpredictability, that adaptability, was dangerous in his line of work - at least for him. 

It was also sexy as hell. It had been a long while since he met a contact who danced so well with him verbally, who gave so much and promised so little at the same time. Not to mention that fit little body...

His thoughts were turning increasingly toward the sexual potential of this new contact by the time he reached Tartarus. Stopping by the bar, he murmured some instructions to Kian regarding the Pathfinder, paid his previous tab, collected a fresh bottle of whiskey, and stalked upstairs to his private room with a growing pressure in the front of his trousers that he tried to ignore as he mentally reviewed the work that needed doing. 

Work was not going to happen tonight, he realized as he read a cargo manifest for the third time an hour later. The pressure in his trousers might abate briefly when he focused, only to return when his mind wandered. And it kept wandering. He had a type - beautiful, intelligent, and dangerous - and Ryder fit the bill. That she could help him realize his dream for Kadara Port was an added spice. _Fine_ , he decided, _let’s get this out of our system_. 

He checked his security. The door was locked with his special encryption. Comms were set to do-not-disturb. A rag was at the ready. He pulled up the security footage from Kralla’s Song on the terminal Kian had so thoughtfully installed. Watched the Pathfinder saunter into the bar. Watched her watch him approach and eye him up and down. Watched her lips part in obvious desire...imagined her on her knees, slipping his cock between those full, luscious lips. She’d be eager, hungry as she was, taking all of him in until the tip of him reached the back of her throat. Rolling her eyes up to look at him, see how he liked that. 

_Ayyyy mamacita...me gusto mucho_ , he thought, stroking himself firmly, roughly. Imagining his fingers twined in that bright blue hair, holding her so close that her nose touched his belly, forcing her to take all of him as he reached his climax…

And with that, he felt the clench of his balls, the surge of completion as he spilled into the waiting rag. _Fuck_ , he thought to himself. It hadn’t been that long since he’d satisfied himself. He’d have to last longer than that when he finally got the Pathfinder into his bed, or risk ruining his reputation. 

***

Ryder turned up an hour or two thereafter, not entirely unexpectedly given his invitation. Reyes had had time for a brief nap and was working on Collective business with renewed focus when Kian pinged him with a warning that the Pathfinder was on her way with a krogan and a turian. Drack and Vetra, he assumed. If Ryder had a squad in tow, this probably wasn’t to take him up on his offer of a drink. Business then. 

Flipping to a report on Vehn Terev, he confirmed that the Resistance had gotten the angaran traitor off-planet. He quickly scanned through a few other reports on topics he suspected would interest her and was leaning back sipping a whiskey when the door slid open. 

She was visibly grouchy but lightened as her eyes roamed the space, taking in the terminal, the couches...him. He shared the news of Terev’s escape, lightening her mood further. Hm. That was nice, seeing her honest smile at a job well done. It was nicer knowing he played a part, and somehow deeply satisfying that she acknowledged it. Maybe they really could just do business like normal people instead of criminal sociopaths. That would be refreshing.

He thought she would leave for whatever her errand was after that, but she asked more questions. The one about his codename he thoroughly enjoyed responding to; the way her eyes glazed over slightly when he said he’d never had a complaint about his oral skills suggested he wasn’t the only one having trouble focusing on business. A question about his role in the mutiny on the Nexus was an easy one - he simply told her the truth. The questions about the Collective and the Charlatan were less welcome, however. 

Reyes weighed the options in his head. She’d find everything out eventually, he was sure of it, but he still barely knew the woman. He needed her to support the Collective over Sloane, but she clearly didn’t trust a shadowy leader heading an organization she’d only heard mentioned by Reyes himself, or in whispers. Then there was her comment in Kralla’s Song, that Sloane was a criminal, delivered in disgusted tones. Reyes Vidal was many things, and most of them were criminal these days. 

No. It was too soon. If she decided to side with Sloane, that would be his head on a platter and all his work for nothing. That the people of Kadara would continue to suffer was as intolerable as the idea of his death. He wasn’t a good or honorable man, but he hadn’t left the injustice on the Nexus only to see people suffer on Kadara. He could do better, _would_ do better, would _be_ better. It burned in him, the desire to be someone. Someone that people would speak of positively, that they would point to as a success.

But for that, he needed the Pathfinder’s trust. That would be a difficult line to balance: gaining her trust, without fully giving his until he was dead certain of her commitment. It was that, or literally be dead.

So he dodged on the Charlatan questions and fed her some leads on the Collective, hoping she’d chase them up and speak to his people at the Site 3 cave in Draullir. That was a good cell and he trusted Crux’ strong commitment to what the Collective stood for. They’d be a good first introduction. 

Ryder finally turned to leave. He could tell that her suspicion of him, of his motives, had increased with their conversation. Not good. 

“You need a friend,” he called after her. “Someone on the inside to help you out. I can be that guy.”

It sounded a little desperate - and it was, if he was honest with himself - but she looked more thoughtful as the door closed behind her. 

When Kian signalled that she was gone Reyes slipped out of the bar, taking his rifle with him. He leaned over the railing, peering to the lift. No movement there, so he looked toward the gate to the badlands just in time to see her jumpjet over the fence. Vetra and Drack followed suit, the krogan looking equal parts frightening and ridiculous as he soared up and over. _Why bother with a gate when people can just jump over it?_ Reyes mused somewhat sourly. 

Moving down the walk, he used the scope on his rifle to watch as she called down first some kind of automated beacon, then a massive six-wheeled rover with, of all things, gold plating. The woman had to be mad to drive around on Kadara in a golden tank; she’d draw every raider within 100 kilometers. She got points for style, though.

He waited until she roared off down the road that would take her to Draullir, wincing unconsciously at the reckless way she plowed over rocks, rather than driving around them. On returning to Tartarus he sent out an encrypted message to all of his cells.

_< The Pathfinder and her companions are in the badlands. They are not to be obstructed or harmed. I want a report if she is spotted in Draullir. Eyes only - do not approach. If she finds her way to Site 3, allow her to enter the base. Answer questions openly.  >_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo I have a bit more written, but I'll be out of town later this week and still need to flesh it out. Plus I want to see if anyone is interested. Let me know? Thanks for reading this far.


	3. Murder Mystery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryder follows Reyes' lead about the murders in Kadara Port.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minor canon divergence here, because I wanted to do a little fix-it work for the game.

“Ryder! Glad you’re here. I’m sure you’ve heard about the murders.”

She allowed herself a tight grin, not wanting to seem too eager in front of her squad. She also wanted to prod at him some more about the Charlatan. 

“...Some of the locals say it’s the Charlatan’s handiwork.”

His quick negation puzzled her. She baited him with Sloane as a test, given his dislike for Kadara’s queen, but he discarded that as well. Interesting. 

“If I was a betting man - and I am - I’d say it was the Roekaar.” 

Intriguing theory. She’d run into the Roekaar on Havarl, and it was plausible. Their blind hatred for any and all non-angarans was combined with a willingness to take deadly action against them. Still, she pushed him again. “Why would a Roekaar be in Kadara Port?” 

His response came more slowly than the previous ones, like he was constructing an answer out of things he knew but didn’t entirely want to share, so she pressed him on the murdered angara. His response was solid, and he admitted he had no proof, so she kept up their verbal dance. 

The smuggler’s open admission that he needed SAM was surprising. He seemed to play things close to the vest; for him to let her know he not only had knowledge of SAM but also an inkling of the AI’s capabilities was not something she’d expected. It threw her off balance, right as he hit her with a plea.

“People are scared, Ryder. This is your opportunity to win friends in Kadara Port.” 

Friends like...him? Trying to regain her equilibrium, she baited him again. “I sound pretty integral to this plan.”

“SAM is integral. You’re a bonus.”

Red flag. How much would the average exile know about SAM? Would they know what it was called? She backpedaled. “Hey, I haven’t agreed to help you yet.”

“I feel good about my chances,” he purred, turning on the charm. Abruptly, he was business again. “One of the crime scenes isn’t far. Give me a call when you get there.”

She nodded and turned to leave, eyeing him more with suspicion than lust this time. She'd go, because she cared about stopping the murders, but what did he know and how did he know it? Ryder pondered the questions all the way out to the homestead, missing the concerned looks Vetra kept shooting at her. She still wanted him physically, there was no doubt about it. She was pretty sure he wanted her too; every time she entered the room his mask of bland amusement would drop for a moment and something altogether more predatory peeked out, the kind of look that said a man was thinking about what her O-face looked like and whether she’d let him see it. 

The frustrating thing was that she didn’t know if his secrets were the usual petty criminal bullshit, or something bigger, darker. Despite what she’d said in Kralla’s Song about Sloane being a criminal, his criminality didn’t necessarily bother her. From what Vetra and Drack told her, the only people he’d harmed were Sloane and her lackeys, indirectly, by stealing shipments from them to resell to the angara. The Collective cell they’d encountered whilst reactivating the monoliths and the vault had had its bad seed, but Crux and her people genuinely seemed to be working to help the people of Kadara. 

If that was the case, and Reyes was affiliated with both the angaran Resistance and the Collective - one of which she’d assisted herself, the other of which seemed to be decent people when they weren’t mistaking her for an Outcast and shooting at her - she could accept the man as he was. Certainly just for a night. 

But if all she was after was a good lay, why was it bothering her so much that he seemed to be hiding something? She didn’t actually… _like_ him, did she?

***

Reyes had been right. The crime scene evidence pointed at the Roekaar, which was why she now found herself walking into a Roekaar base farther out in the badlands. She didn’t see the smuggler, though. That was unsettling. 

“Reyes should be here…” she muttered. 

“So is there something going on? You and Reyes?” Vetra teased. Ryder turned to deny it, interrupted by heavily armed and armored Roekaar soldiers. 

Dammit. Had she been set up? She stalled, tried to put a cocky face on it. Maybe Reyes hadn’t set her up. Maybe he was just late again. 

The Roekaar leader pulled a knife. Ryder tried talking her down, mentally cursing Sloane for alienating people to the point that the Roekaar could gain a toehold on Kadara. Farah started to throw her knife at Ryder...and before Ryder could react, a shot rang out. The knife sparked as it flew from Farah’s grasp. 

“Not so fast,” said a voice accompanying footsteps running down the stairs. Reyes. “You’re late!” Ryder reprimanded him with more excitement than she thought she should have felt. “I’ve got a good reason,” he insisted. 

Did he ever. The explosion bloomed brilliant orange and yellow, and Ryder took advantage of the chaos to roll forward, scoop up a kett assault rifle, and activate her flamethrower right in the Roekaar’s face, taking out Farah and half-incinerating the saboteur next to her. Drack finished off the armored angaran with his hammer as Ryder blinked ahead, lifting unarmored targets with a singularity, detonating with energy drain, and killing the surviving raider with a headshot from her assault rifle. Another biotic blink took Ryder to the last saboteur - quickly dispatched with more flame - and a third brought her to the sharpshooter on the ridge. She stripped his shields with energy drain, pulled him out of cover with singularity, and then impassively burned him to a crisp with a final blast from her flamethrower as he twisted in the biotic field. The whole battle had lasted less than five minutes. 

She turned back to where Reyes stood, still near the stairs. A strange look flitted across his face, as if he was rapidly re-evaluating her. So. He’d realized she wasn’t just another pretty face, that this explorer was also a hunter. What would that mean for their working relationship - and their flirting? She gave him a wondering glance and strode up the stairs, waiting for him at the top. 

“The streets of Kadara are safe again,” he pronounced lightly. “You did good, Ryder.” The warmth in his voice sounded genuine. 

“That’s important to you, isn’t it,” Ryder guessed. Reyes tilted his head and cocked an eyebrow in question. “That Kadara is safe. That people can walk the streets without fear.” He nodded, looking more solemn than she’d ever seen him. “Kadara was our second chance. It still could be, if the right people were in charge, if we can get Oblivion off the streets and honest trade flowing into the port for people to make a living.”

His earnestness surprised her; she would never have expected a flirtatious malcontent making a living off information brokering and smuggling to think or care about the greater good. She felt a bit of a flutter in her stomach as thoughts started rearranging themselves. _Could he actually be a decent guy?_ “Then I guess you’ve done your good deed for the day, getting me out here to stop the Roekaar.”

“Don’t worry,” he assured her, “I’ll let all the important people know who to thank.” 

Ryder wondered who those important people were. Certainly not Sloane; did he actually know who the Charlatan was? She was fairly certain he wouldn't tell her, so she decided to let it go. “We make a good team,” she suggested instead. She may have cleared out the Roekaar, but it was his intel that got them there and his bomb that gave her the edge. He stepped closer, his left shoulder nearly brushing her breast. That close, he smelled of gun oil, leather, woodsy cologne, and pure man. She tried to inhale subtly. “Careful.” he warned her. “I’ll start thinking you like me.”

She looked away, uncomfortably realizing that she did like him, in spite of what he was and the fact that she was almost certain he was hiding something about the Charlatan from her. Aside from oozing sex appeal he was smart, as much a scoundrel as she was a troublemaker, and she hadn’t been lying when she said they worked well together. If he was actually a decent man beneath the roguish exterior...

“Would that be so bad?” she muttered, embarrassed but not willing to back down. He shifted to stay in her field of vision, catching her eyes. “Depends…” he offered. “Don’t be a stranger, Pathfinder.” That invitation, delivered in a low, sultry voice, made her belly clench. He eased past her, gaze dropping to her ass as he made his exit.

He definitely wanted her. And she definitely needed to ditch her squad the next time she went down to Tartarus. Decent man or not, she was going to get a piece of Reyes Vidal. Whether she loved him and left him afterwards...that would depend on how bad his secrets were.

A put-upon sigh from Vetra broke Ryder out of her thoughts. “He’s trouble, Ryder. He’s not as bad as some, but he’s not good, either.” Drack was studiously ignoring the conversation despite the fact that she knew his keen krogan hearing could probably catch what they were saying as he looted bodies below.

Ryder shrugged, embarrassed all over again. “What can I say? You know I’m always looking for trouble.”

***

After filing the requisite reports about the improving situation on Kadara, Ryder decided to give herself a break to relax in her quarters. She needed to follow up on a lead about the asari ark on Eos, but that was the other side of the galaxy and she’d been doing so much running around on Kadara that she hadn’t taken the vacation she’d been thinking about. So she refused to think about anything official for the rest of the night. No decisions about where to go next, no rounds, no emails, no discussions about humor with SAM. Just touching herself idly and debating if it was pathetic to keep chasing a shady bastard entirely because of a saucy smile, a sense that he’d be a good lay, and a flicker of hope that he was actually a decent guy underneath it all. 

Her omnitool beeped. Reyes. A slow grin spread across her face. _Need me again?_ She opened the connection then put her free hand back inside her pants. “Pathfinder,” his voice spilled out in a low purr that stirred her. She moved her fingers a little faster, glad that this was just a voice call and he couldn’t see the way her cheeks flushed. “About that drink I owe you...” 

“Mmm?” she prompted.

“Word’s getting around that Kadara’s water is no longer poisonous and you’re the one to thank. I thought we could drink to that. Meet me in Tartarus tonight.”

She pretended to think about it. “I don’t know, Reyes, I’m drowning in paperwork up here. You reset a Remnant vault, and everyone wants a piece of you.”

“I certainly want a piece. Or...a mouthful,” he growled suggestively. 

That did it. “Be there in 15 minutes,” Ryder said, shutting off the comm. Great - now she was taking booty calls from Kadaran smugglers. Scott would be appalled. Even with his sister's extensive past history of finding and creating trouble, this would probably be a whole new level of outrage for her quieter, more wholesome twin. But hell, why play alone when she could play with a partner? 

It was difficult, but she managed to slip off the Nexus alone. Tucking her newly-acquired Sidewinder pistol under her jacket, she stepped onto the lift down to the slums. Her heart pounded until SAM asked if something was wrong. “No, SAM, but now that I think of it, don’t tell anyone where I am and go into privacy mode...or something...unless someone tries to stab me. Or shoot me. Or kidnap me. Or you know, fuck me up somehow. Not if someone tries to fuck me!” she clarified, face burning. “But like, if something bad happens.”

There was a moment of silence from the AI, as if it was processing the various nuances of her request. “Understood, Pathfinder.” Ryder was just glad she was alone for that conversation. SAM could read her body temperature, heart rate, and hormone levels, and was embarrassingly good at inferring her mood with that information, but he wasn’t a mind reader. Yet, anyway. Sometimes she felt like a crazy person, literally expressing herself out loud to the voice in her head.

The rattling lift seemed to take forever to reach the bottom but eventually, she was walking into Tartarus’ private room. Two glasses and a bottle of something were on one of the tables, as promised, but she was more interested in the way his eyes roved over her body. The smirk that said he liked what he saw. She stepped deeper into the room. “So what’s this I hear about drinks?” she asked as she approached him, only to keep walking and pour herself a generous serving as she set her pistol on the table. She started to drink, and then froze as she realized she had no idea if he had tainted the bottle, the glass, or both.

A flush of heat raced over her body as he pressed against her from behind, arms encircling her to pour himself a glass and pluck hers from her hand. She turned, carefully, and watched him slug both glasses. “It’s not poisoned,” he said, pinning her against the table again to set both glasses down. “There are a lot of things I want to do with you, but I’m pretty sure they’re all things you’d happily consent to.”

“Like what?” she breathed. 

“Like this.” He gently tilted her chin up and pressed his lips to hers. He tasted of whiskey, and something spicy. When she didn’t push him away he deepened the kiss, gently teasing with his tongue until she let him in. He was good. Real good. Shena, indeed.

He broke the kiss and stepped away suddenly, leaving her slightly breathless. The smug look on his face made her want to hit him, but he was a fantastic kisser. He poured two more glasses, offering her one. “A toast,” he offered, “to clean water on Kadara and the Pathfinder who made it possible.” She inclined her head, pleased that he wanted to celebrate her, and drank. He topped them up again before moving to sit on the couch. She followed, taking a sip from her glass and setting it aside before straddling him and lowering herself slowly onto his lap. They both wanted the same thing - why play games?

“Straight to the point then. I like the way you think, Ryder.” Wrapping one arm around her waist, he leaned to rest his glass next to hers on the table. Ryder took the opportunity to nip at his neck, trailing kisses down his throat as she peeled the jacket away from his body. He rolled his shoulders to help, tugging it and his gloves off together. Her jacket went next, and her scarf, as he turned the tables and nibbled on her neck. His hands were surprisingly smooth as they slid underneath her shirt, one to support her back, the other under the front of her bra to tweak a nipple. She moaned and arched back, grinding her hips into his. He was growing hard, and that hardness had a lot of potential. 

His hands shifted suddenly and in a deft rotation had her on her back on the couch, his length pressing against hers without crushing her. She gasped. He paused and when she didn’t protest he pushed her shirt up with one hand, rubbing expertly between her legs with the other as he kissed his way up the exposed skin and took a nipple between his teeth. 

“Oh god, Reyes,” she panted. “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anyone this badly in my life…” 

“I’m just getting started,” he murmured in a low voice. The hand massaging between her legs shifted to unsnap the button holding her trousers closed...and then a pounding came at the door. 

Ryder jumped, and Reyes actually growled, turning to glare bloody murder at the door. “I told Kian no interruptions,” he muttered under his breath before barking, “What?” in a tone that suggested he’d happily kill Kian and whomever else might disturb him. Ryder was surprised. That was not a tone she’d heard from him before; even in the fight against the Roekaar he’d sounded simply confident, not...commanding.

The bartender’s unbothered Irish accent filtered through the door. “Keema’s been trying to reach you and now she’s harassing me. Says it’s urgent, needs to talk to you, something life or death, et cetera. Get on the comms and see what she wants before she burns my feckin’ bar down looking for you.”

Ryder sighed. Whatever Reyes’ secrets were, she had a feeling they were about to ruin her night. That fucking sucked. Sure enough, he pleaded for forgiveness with his eyes. “I have to take care of this. I’m sorry, but I’ll make it up to you,” he promised. She sighed again and rolled her top back down. Stood up, scooped up her scarf and jacket from the floor. She supposed she couldn’t blame him for wanting to help someone dealing with Sloane, but she wondered who this Keema was and why she was important enough for Reyes to run out like this. 

“You’d better,” she said. “I’m taking this,” she added, snagging the bottle of whiskey along with her Sidewinder on the way out. Maybe she could use it to placate Vetra for sneaking out. She turned to see him gazing at her with a look of such frustrated longing that she almost felt bad for him...then remembered her own _frustrated longing_ making a damp spot in her pants.

It was a long walk back to the Tempest, and the whiskey was not quite enough to make Vetra forgive her for sneaking off. Peebee enjoyed it though, and the hilarious distraction of a drunken biotic flirt explaining sexual idioms to Jaal had everyone occupied for some time.


	4. Opportunities and Desires

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reyes uses the murders to get Ryder more involved in Kadara.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minor canon divergence again, plus mild smut.

After the Vehn Terev mess was cleaned up, Reyes found himself trying to think of ways to further his connection with the Pathfinder. The murders in the port offered the perfect opportunity. People were increasingly anxious; Sloane, predictably, was doing nothing to either solve them or reassure the populace. If he could get Ryder involved it would bring to bear new resources beyond his or the Collective’s current capabilities, as well as showing Ryder and the Initiative to be concerned with what happened here and willing to take action to help, strengthening the Collective's position when he allied them openly with her later. Two birds, one stone. 

He sent her a message asking her to drop in and was pleased when she appeared later that day. She’d already encountered a victim of one of the more recent murders and was clearly prepared to help. She wanted to talk about the Charlatan, again, but he danced away. It was a good mental battle, deflecting her away from the Charlatan and towards the Roekaar, although he sensed he’d overplayed his hand somehow mentioning SAM.

While she was investigating one of the crime scenes, he reviewed reports from some of his cells reporting mass fatalities from encounters along the road from Kadara Port to Draullir, with causes of death listed as gunshots, injuries consistent with being caught up in biotic explosions and...bodies burned to a crisp? Not just burns with the heavy impact spot and lighter peripheral damage consistent with an incineration blast, but also the all-over blackened mess caused by a flamethrower. 

This couldn’t be Sloane’s work; he’d know if she’d imported flamethrowers. He backtracked in the report, feeling a bit sick when he saw the line that read _<...investigated and subsequently attacked a large golden tank. >_ Ryder. The fools had gone against his express orders and attacked the Pathfinder. And she’d burned them alive?

That was momentarily unsettling, even for him. He was a proponent of using whatever tool it took to get the job done but it took a certain kind of ruthlessness and a very strong stomach to use a flamethrower, even if it was the most efficient way to burn through armored foes. He’d pegged Ryder as bold, efficient, and a bit of a troublemaker, but not ruthless. His estimation of the danger she represented should she decide to take Sloane’s side shot up several notches. He had to convince her the Collective was the right choice, both to preserve his people’s lives and to have that firepower to use against Sloane, should it come to it. 

His omnitool beeped. _Speak of the devil…_

Ryder had found evidence pointing to the Roekaar, enough to satisfy even her AI, and he sent her the coordinates to the base his operatives had discovered just the week before. Before heading out himself he sent another order reinforcing the earlier one not to attack Ryder, this time attaching some of the grisly photos but not clarifying whether the Pathfinder or the Charlatan was responsible. They’d obey his orders or wish they had, one way or another. He could be ruthless, too, when called for.

***

Favorable winds behind his shuttle had Reyes arriving at the Roekaar base early. He skulked around, finding the main room empty for the moment, and decided to rig the surprise he’d brought with him. He was nearly finished setting the bomb when the outer doors opened. Tensing, he tucked himself into a corner to finish pairing the bomb with the detonator. 

“Reyes should be here…” Shit. Ryder, and she sounded odd somehow. Suspicious? Concerned? He couldn’t see her face, and was about to step out when a turian voice asked, “So is there something going on? You and Reyes?”

Reyes froze, breath held, but Ryder didn’t have a chance to respond before heavy booted footsteps pounded into the entry and armed Roekaar surrounded Ryder.

“Were we too loud?” she asked. This time Reyes did peek, surprised at the curl of a smile on her face. He’d thought her mad for driving around Kadara in a golden tank before, but now he was convinced of it. Who was crazy enough to smile at the Roekaar? That level of confidence was strangely...hot. So was the sparkle in her eyes when she declared him late but was obviously glad to see him. Watching her in action against the angaran raiders though, that was incredible. 

All he had time to do was set off the bomb. She took full advantage of his distraction by rolling forward and scooping up a rifle. The flamethrower blazed with a heat he felt from his position by the stairs. A crippling biotic singularity pulled unshielded and unarmored enemies from cover, allowing Drack to go after them with his krogan hammer or Vetra to neatly headshot them. As they cleared up, Ryder somehow… _blinked_...flashing forward in a tinge of biotic blue, to set up the next line of attack. It was over in minutes, and she was barely breathing hard as she picked her way around the crates towards him. What had his men been thinking, going up against her?

Then the possibilities of what they could do together started racing through his head. With his intel and her firepower, they could clear Outcast HQ easily. Kadara Port could be free of Outcasts in a day, rather than one by one in the slow death he had planned for them. 

Should he tell her who he was? Would she be more or less inclined to help if he was honest with her? He wanted to tell her, wanted to see what they could achieve together. Kadara could have its second chance, and with her help, he could lead it there. _They_ could lead it there, together. He felt a thrill at the idea of working with her as full partners, not just using her.

She looked at him questioningly as she headed up the stairs, as if wondering what he was thinking. Tell her, or wait? No. She needed to believe in his good intentions, unquestioningly, before he could reveal himself. Based on their earlier conversation about the Charlatan she was still too untrusting. Reyes wouldn’t risk death by torture at Sloane’s hands, likely leaving the people of Kadara under Sloane’s boot if he was wrong about Ryder. He suppressed a shudder, remembering the body of the last man Sloane had suspected of being the Charlatan, a skinless, eyeless, bloody ruin dumped in the street as a warning. Kaetus was a vicious fucker with a mean streak like no other when it came to defending Sloane and his handiwork was obvious. No. Reyes had no desire to be on the receiving end of Kaetus’ attentions, now or ever.

He shook off the memory. Walking up the stairs to her he smiled warmly, allowing his pleasure with the successful mission to shine through. “The streets of Kadara are safe again. You did good, Ryder.” 

Her eyes searched his face; whatever she saw there made hers soften. “That’s important to you, isn’t it.” The question was stated, rather than asked, as if she’d already found the answer in his visage. Reyes tilted his head and cocked an eyebrow in question. He wanted to be sure of what she was asking, because the way she was looking at him...something shifted in his chest and his heart swelled with pride. 

“That Kadara is safe. That people can walk the streets without fear,” she offered. He nodded. It certainly was important to him, and she opened the door for him to tell her why. Had she read his mind, moments ago? Did she know how much he wanted her to believe his intentions were ultimately good, even if he himself was not?

Her expression deepened, giving him the impression that he wasn’t just an object of lust anymore. Instead of feeling satisfied that he’d reeled her in, he felt humbled. It was disconcerting. Why did it matter that she looked at him that way? Why did he feel pleased at having pleased her, rather than the high of a successful con? He needed to get out of here and evaluate the situation. He flirted briefly, ending with, “Don’t be a stranger, Pathfinder.” 

He couldn’t help but check out her ass on the way out. Mmmm. Yeah, that would do nicely. 

***

Feelings of pride and humility temporarily aside, the fight in the Roekaar cavern had Reyes completely re-evaluating Ryder. Not inexperienced, or stupid, or even desperate. She was all too capable of taking him down if he slipped up, and that turned him on more than anything else had up to now. She was intelligent, competent, and very dangerous, not just beautiful. It had always taken the full combination for him to be truly interested in a person rather than just out for sex. There was no challenge or thrill in dominating a partner less capable than he, in any area. To turn the tables on Ryder, have her submit to him...that would be more exciting than any conquest to date.

So when he got back to Tartarus from the Roekaar base he imagined her arms bound behind her with the scarf she usually wore around her neck, bent over one of the tables in his private room with his hand pressing down between her shoulderblades. Wanting him, needing him, but stubbornly trying to resist him. Eventually begging him, as he nipped at the skin on the back of her neck and rubbed her clit, whispering all the things he had planned for her body, to take her.

He’d press into her, slowly, letting her feel each centimeter of him as he claimed her. He’d mark her as he did it, lips and teeth pulling at the skin of her neck until a bloom of purple announced that he’d had her as much as the ache between her legs would. Would grind into her, teasing her nipples and her clit, waiting for her to beg him for another thrust. And another. And another, until she cried out, her orgasm making her shudder under him. Allowing him to take his own. 

Once again, he came faster than he’d expected or wanted to. A Pathfinder was higher than he’d ever aimed before, and the thrill of balancing their working relationship with their sexual tension was proving a challenge to his usual iron grasp on his libido. This had to be rectified, now, before his imagination spiralled out of control. 

He didn’t bother cleaning himself up before he opened the comm channel. “Pathfinder,” he said in his best sultry voice. “About that drink I owe you...”

She tried to play hard to get but didn’t last long once he reminded her of his mouth. He’d known that would get her off that damn ship. 

Fifteen minutes to prepare. Bottle of Kian’s best whiskey and two glasses, check, cleaned and tidied himself and his room, check. All evidence that could point to him as the Charlatan locked down and Kian warned not to disturb him, double check. 

In no time at all the doors slid open to reveal Ryder, unarmored and unaccompanied, just as he’d hoped. He took a moment to appreciate her curves, breathed in her scent as she breezed past him. She smelled of amber and orange flower with a hint of something deliciously...Ryder. 

The pistol she laid on the table and her hesitation to drink amused him, but he understood. She was meeting a known criminal in a seedy bar in a bad part of town. Could she trust him? She’d find out once he was sure she believed in his mission. He pushed that thought aside for now, wanting her.

He could simply have walked around the table, but felt like teasing her. Approaching from behind, Reyes reached around her to pour a splash in the other glass and take hers. He thought he might have made a mistake when she stiffened, but she didn’t move to escape or push him away. Only turned and watched as he downed both drinks. 

“It’s not poisoned,” he said, pressing against her more firmly than strictly necessary to set both glasses down. It felt good finally feel her body against his, and pressure began to build again in his groin. “There are a lot of things I want to do with you, but I’m pretty sure they’re all things you’d happily consent to.” He hoped she’d consent to them, at least. The idea of taking someone against their will disgusted him, and he took pains to ensure his actions were welcomed, not merely tolerated and certainly not actively unwanted.

Gazing into her eyes and seeing her pupils dilate, he didn’t think it would be a problem with Ryder. “Like what?” The words were breathed out softly, but full of anticipation. 

He’d planned to take this slower, talk to her a bit, let her get to know him a little better, but she was clearly wound tight and seemed willing. So he kissed her, gently at first and then with more ardor. Not with all that burned in him - they could work up to that - but enough that she was breathless when he stepped back. He was a passionate man, but it wouldn’t do to push himself on her too strongly at first. Let her come to him if that’s what she wanted. 

And oh, did she come to him. He was pleasantly surprised when she settled onto his lap after he moved to the couch. Straight to business, no games. Just an eager little mouth and clever fingers getting him out of his jacket. He returned the favor, exploring her perky little breasts, tweaking a nipple. The way she arched back with a moan to offer more of herself...a firecracker, this one, primed to go off with little effort. He made a personal note to try pulling multiple orgasms from her tonight. A man needed a challenge, after all, and Ryder was clearly not a woman with inhibitions.

He wanted more than could be accomplished in this position, wanted to taste her sex and fulfill the implications of his codename. Tweaking a nipple again to distract her, he quickly shifted his hands, lifted, turned...and there. She was on her back, a gasp of surprise and startled eyes his reward. He paused a moment to make sure it wasn’t a protest, but when she reached for his hips he pushed her shirt up. 

Her nipples were small and brown, already hardened by his earlier ministrations. He took one between his teeth, gentle at first, then harder, testing her limits. Her moans and pants were encouraging; he’d always preferred vocal partners. 

The hand between her legs found a wetness that had soaked through her trousers. He was already hard, but his dick throbbed to find her this ready for him before they’d even gotten out of their clothes. She wanted him, badly, and when she told him so he decided it was time to get her out of her pants. He could do a longer warm up for round two.

The button popped open as a banging at the door announced a very unwanted interruption. He’d told Kian he wasn’t to be disturbed tonight, had made several serious threats regarding what would happen if anything other than a life or death situation was brought to him. 

“What?” he called out, layering all the command of the Charlatan behind the word. He didn’t miss the startled look from Ryder and mentally kicked himself - she was military, she’d recognize when a voice was accustomed to delivering orders. Shit.

Kian shouted through the door lazily, completely used to, and unfazed by, Reyes’ rare but expressive bouts of temper. “Keema’s been trying to reach you and now she’s harassing me. Says it’s urgent, needs to meet you, something about life or death, et cetera. Get out and see what she wants before she burns my feckin’ bar down looking for you.”

Damn Keema - or damn Sloane, rather - for her timing. Reyes, via Keema, had recently promised the Collective’s protection to a group of angara too poor to pay Sloane’s protection fees and lacking the skills to survive in the badlands. If Keema was calling on him directly, the situation was bad. Cells would need to be called into action using the Charlatan’s codes, codes only he knew. He looked at Ryder apologetically. “I have to take care of this. I’m sorry, but I’ll make it up to you,” he swore. 

She sighed and he tried not to flinch at the tight-lipped look of disappointment on her face, such a contrast to the look she’d given him earlier. He didn’t even argue when she took the whiskey bottle with her, could only stare after her as she left. 

_What I’m doing is important and necessary_ , he reminded himself. _Why am I so bothered if she’s disappointed?_

***

Hours later, after the situation with Sloane’s thugs had been handled, Keema found Reyes at Tartarus. Normally he enjoyed teasing the angaran woman, his closest friend in two galaxies, but tonight his sexual frustration and the look on Ryder’s face as she left had him in a dark mood. He half-listened to her report in silence, nursing a beer and a bad attitude.

“Reyes!” snapped Keema. Reyes glanced at her, mentally replaying the last part of what she’d said. Casualties. Recruiting. “With the water in the badlands drinkable and the murders stopped some of the braver settlers will start coming from the Nexus, even before Ryder gets an official colony team together. Send an angaran to the station as an envoy and put out feelers. All of my Milky Way operatives will all be on a watch list there.”

She nodded, staring at him in a way that said she had an angaran comment to make but knew he wouldn’t want to hear it. “Let’s have it, Keema,” he sighed. 

“You’re moody, you called the Pathfinder Ryder, and there are two glasses out. Are you going to tell me what I interrupted, or shall I just go and ask Kian?”

Reyes glared at her, then sighed again and flopped back against the couch, rubbing the bridge of his nose. She was too clever for her own good and had absolutely no qualms about digging into his personal business. Aside from that, Kian would probably enjoy telling her about the Pathfinder leaving the club in a fine temper earlier. _It’s not her fault Sloane is a greedy bitch with horrible timing, either,_ he reminded himself. 

“I had a meeting with the Pathfinder,” he hedged, not wanting to tell Keema everything just yet. Close friend or no, he was still working out for himself why Ryder’s good regard was so important to him. Then it hit him. _Do I...like her?_ he wondered in shock. It had been a long time since he’d even come close to falling for someone, so long that he couldn’t actually remember what it felt like.

“Aaaaand?” Keema prompted. Reyes didn’t respond, only shifted on the couch where he’d had Ryder moaning on her back scant hours before. _No, don’t think about that now…_

“Stars and skies! Reyes, you didn’t.” He didn’t reply and her eyes darted from the empty glasses to the couch to him avoiding her gaze. “Tell me you didn’t try to seduce the Pathfinder!”

Was he really that predictable? He rolled his head to glare at her again. “The attraction is _mutual_ , I’ll have you know.” He pouted slightly, both for the missed opportunity and Keema’s stark disbelief. Why _wouldn’t_ Ryder be attracted to him?

“But...the _Pathfinder_...wants to bed a nobody Kadaran smuggler?” she crowed, bursting into incredulous laughter. Her mirth stopped almost as soon as it started. “Did you tell her?”

“Tell her what?” he snapped, annoyed at being the source of so much amusement when he was very much not in the mood for laughter. 

“That you’re…”

Reyes huffed an annoyed sigh. “No. And the look she gave me when I kicked her out to be...me…” he trailed off, feeling annoyance melt away and the unusual sensation of a mild depression wash over him at the memory.

“You like her.”

“I don’t,” he protested halfheartedly as he mentally resigned himself to the idea that yes, actually, he did, because she was everything he required in a partner...and had looked at him like he was somebody worthwhile. “She’s just a business contact. An attractive one. One I can’t afford to have upset with me just now.”

“The same could have been said about that _putaan_ Zia Cordier, but you barely seemed to care when things fell apart with _her_. Don’t lie to me Reyes, you like the Pathfinder!” Keema clapped her hands excitedly. “You have to introduce me. I’ve wanted to meet her anyway but now I simply _must_ speak to the woman who has Reyes Vidal sighing and pouting.”

“I’m not pouting,” he objected grumpily. 

“You _are_ and it’s _cute_. I’ve never seen _cute_ on you. Seriously though,” she said, sobering. “You have to tell her who you are. If you like her, you have to be open with her.”

“We’re not angara, Keema. It’s not that easy. Besides, she hasn’t exactly spoken favorably of the Charlatan. She’d...she’d look at me differently,” he finished quietly, somewhat embarrassed that he cared so much. 

“Then I hope you live up to your codename if she finds out for herself or you’ll end up with either nothing at all or more trouble than any of us can manage, _Shena_.” She changed the subject back to recruiting, and Reyes sighed. He hoped so, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You _almost_ had her, Reyes.
> 
> It'll probably be at least a week before I can update again, but I appreciate everyone who has read, left kudos, and commented so far. You all are why I write!


	5. Ex-Girlfriends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mainly follows the Precious Cargo mission.

Ryder dropped in on Reyes on her way out to clear the badlands of dangers that could threaten the colony. There was still the matter of Sloane to settle before an outpost would be viable, but she could make sure the settlement area would be clear of raiders and those dinosaur-type creatures in the meantime. And clear the lakes of those grisly bodies, now that the water was safe. She wasn’t sure why she kept stopping in to see Reyes though, especially given her suspicion that this attraction was going nowhere after his abrupt ending of their celebrations the night before. 

“Ryder! Perfect timing. You saved me the trouble of looking for you.”

 _Really? After kicking me out the night before?_ “Should I go?” she asked mockingly. “You look like the type who enjoys the chase.”

She was rewarded with a small flinch accompanied by a glance at her squad, a reaction she probably wouldn’t have seen without looking for it as he spluttered, “Huh! Looks can be deceiving! I’m too shy for that nonsense.”

Right. And she was Jien Garson. “Oh yeah, a real introvert,” she sneered at him. _Stop it, Ryder_ , she reprimanded herself. _You’re getting petty over an almost - not even actual! - one night stand. You’re better than this._ “So what did you need me for?” she asked in a lighter tone. 

He asked for her help with a woman who had stolen some cargo from him. _No honor amongst thieves_ , she thought snarkily. It was a bit grating when he reminded her how well they’d worked together in the cave, doubly so when the smuggler didn’t even know what this Zia Cordier had stolen from him. She glanced at Vetra to find the turian’s brow plates lifted and mandibles flared in an _I told you so_ expression. Rolling her eyes, Ryder turned back to Reyes. 

She demanded a 50-50 split of the take, settling for 60-40 in his favor and agreeing to meet at Kralla’s Song. It was a shitshow, but she still couldn’t be bothered to fly to Eos or anywhere else just yet and wouldn’t mind the extra credits to share out as a bonus to her crew. Not that they’d respect her any more than they did now - which wasn’t much to begin with - but maybe they’d shut up about movie nights and spiritual discussions and rose gardens and whatever the fuck else they wanted from her for a while.

***

Reyes was leaning against the bar when Ryder walked down the stairs in Kralla’s Song. She took a good, long look at the smuggler’s ass before approaching. _He may be a jerk, but that is a fine ass._

Drack was in the corner, bantering with the bartender, so she knew she was safe, whatever happened with the too-smooth Reyes Vidal. Thinking about what it would be like to grab his ass and urge him to thrust deep into her - if they ever made it to the bedroom - she approached him. “You look like you’re waiting for someone,” she said wryly. 

“That’s my line,” he said with false pique, not turning around. 

“Ugh,” the asari bartender scoffed with disgust. “You want a drink, or a room?” 

“Information, actually,” Reyes answered quickly. Ryder wondered why she was disappointed. Especially when he volunteered her as the source of credits for said information. About his...ex? _Everyone has an ex, don’t be a child,_ Ryder minded herself as an unreasonable jealousy flashed through her. Only she couldn’t stop her mouth. “Ex. As in...girlfriend?”

“Girlfriend’s such a strong word,” he defended, more words spilling out of him after that. She wasn’t listening. Fuck. Of course this wasn’t a simple cargo robbery. And again, he was quick to take up the Collective lead, leaving her to chase up the lead in the badlands. _Nuh-uh. Nope. Not getting off that easily._

“Is this job about getting your cargo back, or one-upping an ex?” Reyes talked a good game, but he was nervous about something. She knew that even without SAM informing her of Reyes’ increased heartrate and sudden temperature rise.

Against her better judgement she went along with it in the end. A 60-40 split on whatever cargo his considerable rates - _implied_ considerable rates, anyway - might merit was better than flying around doing the bidding of Tann and Addison for a while longer. 

***

As usual, Ryder’s team did the heavy lifting in terms of finding information, and she was starting to resent it. What was with Reyes? He was a suave smuggler, then he seemed like a decent guy out to help the people, then he came on sexy as hell, and now she was his errand girl. 

“Hey,” Vetra said lightly. “You’re going blue. Chill out.”

Ryder looked at her arms, realizing that she was pissed off enough to start losing control of her meager biotics skill. “What’s his deal, Vetra?” she exploded. “It’s like he can’t decide who he wants to be on a given day!”

Vetra glanced at Drack, who sighed in annoyance.

“If that’s the case, kid, why are we out chasing this pyjack into the badlands?” Drack grumbled.

Ryder answered quickly, having already asked herself the same question. “Kadara is viable for an outpost. I just need somebody on my side, who will make sure the bloody Outcasts won’t destroy it. Sloane’s unreliable and Reyes knows people.”

“Sure, Reyes knows people. Reyes knows lots of people, and lots of people know Reyes,” Vetra replied nonchalantly. “But other people know people, too. Don’t get too caught up on this one guy just because you met him first and like looking at him.” 

Ryder shrugged uncomfortably, unsure why it mattered that she work with Reyes in particular on setting up the outpost. _Because he’s a “good guy”,_ she mocked herself. “Let’s just see how this goes,” she said out loud, glaring at the mountainous landscape of Spirit’s Ledge and missing the exasperated looks exchanged by Vetra and Drack.

***

There was no cargo; it was clearly a setup. Reyes’ disbelief was almost cute. She hadn’t imagined he could be so naive. The tall, armored woman striding through the doors made it clear as crystal, though. Maybe he had a blind spot where ex-girlfriends were concerned.

Ryder disliked the woman immediately. Haughty, dismissive, and clearly in possession of an axe to grind where Reyes was concerned. Which was probably why Ryder found herself jumping to defend him. “Reyes is a better man than you think,” she grated out in a quiet voice, remembering what he had said about wanting better for Kadara. Out of the corner of her eye she saw his head whip round in disbelief, but she studiously ignored him. This Zia woman was a clear threat, and anyway, she was mad at the smuggler.

“Oh honey, you’ve no idea how wrong you are. But you will,” the bitch threw back. Snarling, Ryder opened her mouth again only to have _her_ moment of looking at _Reyes_ in disbelief. “Leave her out of this,” he demanded in a voice that, frankly, gave her chills of both fear and attraction. If his commanding voice the night before had come as a surprise, this one was a drop-dead shock. How could the normally affable Reyes sound so...scary? And why did it turn her on so much, both the voice and the fact that he’d defended her in turn?

 _Because he’s not just a flirt. He’s_ somebody, _somewhere, even if he chooses to hide it from you._

Zia either didn’t catch the shift, or didn’t care, because she kept poking at him. Ryder started to ease away from him, sensing that this was more than a simple lover’s quarrel and wanting to be in a better position when the firefight started. 

“You’ve been taking all the good jobs in Kadara,” Zia snapped. “It’s gotten more than _my_ attention.”

Was that it? Was he some kingpin and not just an independent agent, and all he was hiding was that he was a bigger fish than he let on?

Ryder missed the rest of the conversation as she scanned for the enemies she knew would be coming. The tall red-headed woman pulled her gun and called out, “Move in!” but Ryder was already in motion.

“Vetra, Drack! Take them out!” she shouted as mercenaries poured through the opening doors. She suited action to words, draining the shields of the sharpshooter and following up with a couple of shots from her Mattock before tossing a singularity into the midst of the group. Most of them were unshielded and unarmored, so it was easy going from there. 

Zia ended up pinned in between some raiders and a heavy crate. _Bye, bitch_ , Ryder thought as she dispassionately triggered her flamethrower over the lot. Overkill, but she didn’t have time to pull her pistol for the close-quarters fighting. 

A shot rang out behind her, taking Zia in the head. Ryder turned to see Reyes lowering his own pistol. Pathfinder and smuggler stared at each other for a long moment before Ryder strode up the stairs to scan for tech and grab ammo refills.

“Let’s get out of here,” she said grimly to her squad. They nodded and headed for the door. 

“I knew I wasn’t popular, but I never thought the other smugglers would team up against me,” Reyes offered awkwardly as she approached the exit. Vetra sighed and kept walking. Drack joined her after a moment of glaring at the smuggler.

“Discretion is my forte,” he insisted when she neutrally advised him to keep a low profile. “All that effort, and no credits to show for it,” he added. 

“Not everything has to be about credits,” she reminded him, pleased in spite of herself when he agreed. 

“...What you said back there, about me being a better man? Thank you.” He sounded hesitant as he said it, as if not sure that she’d really meant it. She had, and some of her earlier annoyance eased. Besides, it might well be her having to run out the door next time. Everyone in Heleus seemed to want a piece of her for a missing person, lost cargo, minor sabotage...she was surprised no-one had a cat stuck up a tree for her to rescue. She could cut him some slack for cutting their night short. Stepping closer, she leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek before leaving him to get rid of the bodies. She’d stand beside him in a fight, but she would never clean up his messes for him.

***

“So where’s your boyfriend?” 

Ryder looked up from the whiskey she was nursing at Kralla’s. “Pardon?” she asked the bartender politely. Umi, was that her name?

“Your boyfriend. Vidal,” she supplied, giving the bar a wipe with a rag. “You two were so sickeningly sweet on each other I thought he’d bend you over the bar right there. But now you’re drinking alone looking like a hanar who learned his precious Enkindlers are actually Shepard’s Reapers.”

Ryder could only stare blankly, wondering why the asari considered it any of her business, or cared, for that matter. “Is he a good man?” she asked abruptly. The words fell out of her mouth unbidden, and she regretted it. 

“A good man?” Umi snorted. “There are no good men in Kadara Port, unless you’ve got some hidden on your ship. Does he mean well? Sure, better than most, based on his affiliations and the money he slips the soup kitchens when he thinks nobody will notice. But if you’re looking for a good guy...get off Kadara.”

So he’d meant it when he said he wanted better for Kadara. Would he give money to soup kitchens otherwise? Was that enough, that he meant well, that he wanted better? She spun her glass on the bar and stared down at her whiskey, the swirling amber liquid reminding her of Reyes’ eyes. This wasn’t about a throw-away lover anymore. Somewhere between strolling into Kralla’s for their first meeting and tossing her a wink to today’s reflexive defense of him to his ex, she had fallen head over heels for the man. The most frustrating part was that she couldn't even pinpoint why. It was pure chemistry.

When she didn’t answer, Umi continued. “Look, Pathfinder. I like you. You’re good for business. I was worried that drinkable water would mean less business for the bar, but everyone wants to come in and celebrate. Not to mention they have more money to buy booze and hookers now that they’re not paying water purification fees, and I’m assuming more settlers will come through soon. Vidal seems to like you, and I’ve not seen that man go sweet on anyone, ever. But if you two are going to self-destruct, don’t do it in my bar, okay?” She glanced up. “Hey! You have to pay, asshole!” she shouted as she moved on to serve another patron, leaving Ryder blinking in confusion. Where had that come from? Reyes liked her?

Four whiskeys later, she stumbled back onto the Tempest. She’d told SAM to stop managing her blood alcohol content, wanting to be properly drunk for the conversation she was working up towards.

***

It took a while for the call to connect, long enough that Ryder thought he wasn’t going to answer. When his voice finally came through it sounded wary, yet hopeful. “Ryder?” 

“Reyes,” she confirmed in what she hoped was a firm voice. “I have some things to say to you.” 

A pause. “Alright.”

She hesitated, chasing words around in her whiskey-soaked mind. Only silence came from the other end. “I like you,” she finally blurted out. “A lot. A lot a lot. Not just wanting to fuck you, which I do, but like...like you. And I don’t know why. I wish I didn’t, because you’re hiding something from me, something big, and I know it, but I just can’t...ugh!” she cut off with a noise of frustration and briefly wondered if this would have been easier to convey with a little less liquid courage in her system. Reyes said nothing and she pushed on before she could lose her nerve. “I’m going away for a few days. There are things that need doing on another colony and I need to...need to stop thinking about you for a while. I need to stop having this endless debate in my head about whether you’re a good guy or a bad guy. So I’m going.” He didn’t answer. “Reyes?” 

“I understand,” he said, sounding thoughtful. “Ryder...I...like you too. Thank you for your honesty. That’s a rare gift on Kadara. And I’m sorry about...Zia.” The call lapsed into silence. 

Ryder felt her heart twist at the idea of leaving so much unsaid and undone. “I’ll see you around, Reyes,” she said, ending the call. Fuck. This would all be so much easier if he had been a dick. If he hadn’t admitted to liking her back. But they both needed to sort themselves out, and Ryder was the one who could fly away and give them space. 

Thinking of space in all its meanings, Ryder stormed to the bridge and entered the coordinates for Eos. Kallo and Suvi glanced at her, glanced at each other, and said nothing until she stomped back through the doors to the aft of the ship. 

***

She dreamt of him that night. 

They were on the Tempest, in her quarters. He approached her with a smile and a mischievous sparkle in his golden eyes. “Get off my ship,” she told him, stomach clenching. 

He cocked his head at her, not stopping in his advance. “Is that what you want, Ryder? What you really want?” She nodded slowly, uncertainly, backing away. She did want him to go away, didn't she? But why? He was here, had come for her. Wanted her as much as she wanted him. Why wasn't that enough for her to let him stay? She was frustrated suddenly, unable to remember why she had told him to go. Surely it was for a good reason? He was looking at her intently, and she looked down to realize she was naked.

Panicking, she wrapped her arms around herself to cover her breasts with a modesty she rarely demonstrated in her waking life, but he reached for her. Caught her, one arm around her waist, the other hand behind her neck, holding her close. “Are you sure?” he whispered into her ear, gently kissing the skin beneath her left ear. “I'll go, but first tell me you truly don't want me here,” he murmured, switching to the other side. Why were her arms around his waist, pulling him closer, if she didn’t want him here?

The bed hit the back of her knees and she tumbled back, taking him with her. He caught himself, hovering above her, lips ghosting over hers. All her thoughts and objections melted as she looked up at him, his eyes shining with hope and love. “Stay,” she whispered.

He grinned roguishly, kissed her deeply on the lips and then started making his way down her body. At her nipples he paused to suck on one whilst pinching the other, hard, making her back arch. Lower and lower he kissed, until he was kneeling on the floor between her legs. Pushing them wider, he paused to admire her before grasping her calves firmly and tugging her down until her legs were comfortably positioned over his shoulders. He circled her clit with his thumb, pulling the hood up to expose it before placing a kiss there.

Licks came next. Long, lapping strokes; quick probes; swirls, flutters, flicks. She felt the pressure in her building...building…

And woke up, gasping from the almost-orgasm.

 _You're hopeless, Ryder_. She buried her face in her pillow and wished he was with her, trying to make strategic use of her fingers while grasping for the vestiges of her dream.

“Pathfinder, you have new email,” SAM interrupted.

“Goddammit, SAM, not when I'm in the middle of something!” 

She tried to recover the moment but it was lost, the dream evaporating like fog under the sun. Frustrated and annoyed, she threw off the covers and stomped to her terminal. “...Why didn't you say it was from Reyes,” Ryder grumbled.

“Apologies, Pathfinder. Adding a note to specify when an email is from Mr Vidal.”

SAM’s comment went unnoticed as Ryder opened the message. _His taste in women has improved, has it?_

Feeling naughty, Ryder typed out a reply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmmm...are they working towards an understanding?
> 
> This was kind of a tough one to write, would appreciate your thoughts :)


	6. Treading a Thin Line

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reyes struggles to find his feet as a fed-up Ryder begins to pull away from him.

Ryder stopped in sooner than Reyes had expected her to, the very next day after their failed tryst, and she was not happy with him, which made it unusually difficult for him to keep his mind in the game. She was scathingly sarcastic in her hurt, and he accepted that. He was lying to her, if only by omission, and she had no idea why he’d called her over and then kicked her out last night. But this missing cargo had to be sorted out, and he couldn’t involve the Collective in the otherwise personal business of Reyes Vidal without revealing too many inconvenient connections. 

If he was honest with himself, he was also hoping that involving Ryder in something more personal would throw her off any suspicions that he was the Charlatan. Just until he was certain he was ready to go all in and bet his life to tell her the truth.

“A business rival, Zia Cordier, lifted cargo I was moving for a client,” he explained, somewhat shamefaced. He hoped it came off as professional shame, rather than the truth: that he found himself chagrined at needing help to shut down the antics of a vengeful ex-fuckbuddy. Zia had been fun for exactly three nights, but she was crazy as hell and what he had thought was intelligence had only been a low sort of cunning, suitable for limited situations. Now she was undercutting his front business, and he had to respond as Reyes Vidal, not the Charlatan. Where the Charlatan would simply direct the Collective to his needs, Vidal had to beg or blackmail help from more capable contacts. _At least it provides another excuse to see Ryder,_ he consoled himself as she cut him with her tongue. 

“Sounds like you know from experience,” she retorted when he tried to play on her pity. He told her about his three-drink maximum on a job, which earned a raised brow. _Yes, Ryder, we had more than that last night. You weren’t a job_ , he thought with slight desperation. 

He couldn’t help but laugh in surprise when the woman demanded a 50-50 profit split on the cargo. An Initiative soldier, bartering for a share of illegal goods with an exiled Kadaran smuggler? That was the richest joke he’d heard in months, so he offered her 60-40. She accepted quickly enough that he knew he’d been had. _Worth it_ , he thought to himself as he arranged to meet her at Kralla’s to chat with Umi.

***

Reyes couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so uncomfortable. Damn Umi for mentioning his history with Zia. He could feel the shift for the worse in Ryder’s mood without looking at her, found himself scrambling to deflect her pointed questions as innocently as he could and trying to distract her. She wasn’t having it, and he could sense he was losing her. 

On top of that, he felt unusually anxious pretending he wasn’t the Charlatan now. Had she guessed it was him? Could she see through his lies? 

The whole flight out to Spirit’s Ledge was an exercise in torture. Face a former fuckbuddy alongside a woman he actually liked, respected...and had tried to fuck. Recover a valuable cargo from a bitch who didn’t know when to stop trying to make something happen. What would Ryder do when she met Zia? This had all the hallmarks of a complete clusterfuck, and Reyes was dreading it. Someone was going to die today and given the women involved he wasn’t entirely sure it wouldn’t be him.

Once again, he arrived before Ryder and took advantage of the opportunity to skulk around. The crate he expected to be heavy with precious cargo was empty. All of the other crates were empty. The building itself was empty except for ammo boxes and discarded shipping containers. What the fuck? What was Zia playing at? She was cunning, but not nearly clever enough to pull off the level of detail required to fake the information at the drop point. 

When Ryder came strolling through the doors, he fought back a wince at her cold expression. She was here...but possibly even unhappier than she had been in Kralla’s. He supposed he couldn’t blame her.

“It’s empty,” he offered. Ryder rolled her eyes expressively. “What if this was all just some elaborate trick to get you here?” Was she really that jealous?

Unfortunately, the appearance of Zia Cordier herself confirmed that even if Ryder was jealous, Reyes himself was a fool. He glared at Zia, trying to remember what he’d seen in her. All he perceived now was flaming red hair and bitterness. Had he really hurt her so much when he left that she’d arrange a setup? He’d been clear from the start that it was just sex.

“You’re selfish!” she spat at him. This was just embarrassing. To have it happening in front of Ryder, with no-one to blame but himself, shortened his temper. “What can I say, I’m a greedy man” he replied sardonically. 

When Ryder jumped to his defense - reluctantly, but with conviction by the sound of it - he couldn’t believe his ears. He’d thought she was angry at him, that he’d blown his shot to see where their...whatever they were doing...could go. It enraged him when Zia responded to Ryder in a condescending drawl dripping with scorn and venom. 

“Leave her out of this,” he demanded, surprising himself with the strength of feeling behind the words and apparently Ryder as well, if her startled look was any indication. 

Zia, clearly hurt and, as ever, lacking in the emotional intelligence to know when she’d pushed him too far, kept talking. Reyes could see Ryder edging away from him in his peripheral vision. Whether it was her AI or her own intelligence, she could read a situation far better and was clearly positioning herself for trouble. Smart woman.

“Cut the shit! What’s this all about,” Reyes snapped, having finally lost his temper. Apparently, he was taking all the good jobs. She may have called him selfish, but it was a case of the pot calling the kettle black with Zia. There were plenty of jobs on Kadara, especially now that outposts were being settled on other planets. Of all the stupid, petty, frustrating problems he could have dealt with today, this was the one he least welcomed.

Reyes wasn’t at all surprised when she pulled her gun and called out, “Move in!” What surprised him was the fact that she’d corralled a bunch of other smugglers and mercs to help her take him down. “Shit,” he swore with feeling, putting a hand to his forehead in pure exasperation. He did not need this this kind of distraction right now. Things were at a delicate stage with the expanding Collective, and with Ryder alternating between running hot and cold with admiration for and suspicion of him he needed fewer problems calling for his attention, not this kind of nonsense.

Ryder had started moving the instant Zia’s hand shifted toward her holster, ordering her team to take out the mercenaries making their entrance. If anything, the fight this time was easier for her; their opponents had clearly been expecting to deal with one lightly-armed smuggler, not a squad consisting of a hardened turian drifter, a 1000-year-old krogan warlord, and an AI-enhanced Pathfinder.

Once again, Ryder ended the fight before Reyes had time to do more than admire the speed and grace of her movements, although he did put Zia out of her misery with a pistol shot to the head when Ryder started with that damn flamethrower. Like her or not, Reyes had known Zia and it wasn’t in him to watch her twist and scream her way to a fiery death.

Ryder turned to stare at him, face hard, her eyes searching his. He stared back levelly, expressionless, not sure what she was looking for but refusing to be intimidated. This experience and the one with the Roekaar had taught him that in some ways, handling Ryder would be like keeping a leopard on a leash; the moment you let her smell fear or uncertainty would be the moment you became meat. If anything happened between them he would be master or equal, not meat.

Even so, Reyes silently breathed a sigh of relief when she broke eye contact first and started poking around upstairs before ordering her squad back out to the rover. He felt a moment of panic, a feeling he was generally unaccustomed to but experiencing more frequently with Ryder around. His plan had, if not backfired, then at least hadn't had the desired result. He couldn’t let it end like this. He needed to find out why he liked her so much more than he’d ever liked a person, whether she really believed he could be a better man, but she was already striding out the door. What could he say?

“I knew I wasn’t popular, but I never thought the other smugglers would team up against me,” he tried, ignoring Vetra’s sigh and Drack’s glare. Thankfully Ryder paused, giving him a searching look before advising him to lay low. 

“Discretion is my forte,” he insisted. She made no response, so he tried again. “All that effort, and no credits to show for it.” He couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually _tried_ to keep someone’s interest beyond the business deal in front of them, and theirs was now completed. For all his skill with words, he had no idea how to salvage this. Usually he was happy to move on to the next if the one in front of him appeared to lose interest - but usually there was less challenge involved, less potential for reward. Ryder was exceptional in many ways, too unpredictable and savvy for him to reliably manipulate. _Is that why I can’t stop thinking about her?_

Her face softened, a little. “Not everything has to be about credits,” she finally said. He quickly agreed, gratified when her stance relaxed from its tense posture. He decided to throw out one more attempt. “...What you said back there, about me being a better man? Thank you.” He still wasn’t sure if she’d really meant it. He hoped she did, because he found himself craving the reassurance that all of the underhanded things he did in the name of a better future for the people of Kadara were worth it, but he didn’t believe it deep down.

Maybe she did mean it. After a long, slow blink, she leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek before walking out the door.

Zia and her thugs he cleaned up himself, taking the labor as time to think about his next move. He may not have lost Ryder completely, but he was treading a thin line. If he wanted her to side with him over Sloane, he’d have to plan carefully.

***

It was one of the rare evenings when Reyes couldn’t bear the thought of being alone in his private room. He meandered down to the bar, sitting backwards on the stool with both elbows against the sticky surface to face the room. Sticky was how he felt just now. Stuck, anyway. He signaled Kian over, idly watching the dancers in their cages. Wondering if Ryder danced, how she’d look in a skimpy outfit, winding and gyrating behind the bars. “Give me something strong,” he ordered when the bartender made his way over. 

“I have a new batch of moonshine that’ll strip paint from your shuttle,” Kian offered. Reyes nodded. “Leave the bottle,” he said when it was thunked down at his left elbow. Kian raised his eyebrows. “What’s this about, then? That mess I heard about out in the badlands with Zia Cordier? I thought she was just a fling.” Reyes didn’t react. “No...not that Pathfinder I saw leaving in a right high dudgeon last night?”

Reyes glared sideways at the bartender, snatching the small bottle and drinking straight from it. The Irishman laughed. “Reyes Vidal, Kadara’s own Casanova, thwarted at last? I don’t believe it. What happened, mate? Aim too high this time?” 

The moonshine burned as Reyes swallowed, winced, took another sip. “You know what happened, _cabrón_. Things were going perfectly until -”

“Whoa, whoa. I’m not the one who cockblocked you. That’s all on Sloane and whatever deal you had going with Keema. I’m just the messenger.”

He couldn’t really argue with the man. “Sorry, Kian. It’s just…” He felt Kian watching him while paying half a mind to polishing a glass, and took another slug of the harsh liquor. 

“She’s different, this one,” supplied Kian finally. “She’s wild but she's grand, and she’s changing things for the better instead of joining Sloane to make them worse. Drinkable water. Murder rate dropping. People haven’t had this much hope since the Collective came on the scene.” 

Reyes nodded. Shelving the glass in his hand and taking up another, Kian said, “Just don’t become Icarus, my friend. People like her...they fly in higher circles than we ever could. Live different lives. Hell, I was surprised she stepped foot in here at all.”

“You said it,” Reyes said miserably. “She’s different, this one.” 

“Buck up, mate,” the bartender said with a slap to Reyes’ shoulder. “It’s Kadara. Anything could happen.”

Reyes opened his mouth to reply when his omnitool trilled at him, the tone he had set for Ryder. _Ryder_. “I have to go,” he said, heart lifting. He waved the bottle at Kian. “Put this on my tab.” 

“Always do, Vidal. Always do. It’s getting you to pay the damn things that’s the trouble.” 

***

He took the stairs to his room two at a time, locking the door behind him. “Ryder?” He half-suspected it would be a misdial.

“Reyes,” she slurred. Was she drunk? “I have some things to say to you.” Yes, she was. He wondered where this was going, not sure he wanted to hear what she might have to say in her current state. Curiosity got the better of him. “Alright.”

There was a long pause before she said, “I like you. A lot. A lot a lot. Not just wanting to fuck you, which I do, but like...like you. And I don’t know why. I wish I didn’t, because you’re hiding something from me, something big, and I know it, but I just can’t...ugh!” He was taken aback, not having expected this at all. She liked him after all? A grin spread across his face as she continued. “I’m going away for a few days.” His smile slipped. She was leaving? He shouldn’t have been surprised. There were other colonies for her to attend to, and he’d known she’d leave eventually - Pathfinders had to find new paths, after all - but somehow he’d only been thinking of how to see her again. 

Then she said, “I need to stop thinking about you for a while. I need to stop having this endless debate in my head about whether you’re a good guy or a bad guy. So I’m going.” He felt like he’d been slapped. He hadn’t been able to prove himself without telling her everything, despite what he'd shared with her in the Roekaar base and her apparently forgiving kiss earlier, and now she was leaving. Trying to extricate herself. 

“Reyes?” she prompted. He shook himself. “I understand.” And he did. Kian and Keema’s words echoed in his head. She flew in different circles. He needed to be honest with her, and he wasn’t. “Ryder…” _I’m the Charlatan_. “I...like you too.” _More than I’ve ever liked anyone, maybe so much I could love you one day, and I wish I could tell you everything. But you’re still too conflicted for me to trust you, and there's your crew to consider as well._ “Thank you for your honesty. That’s a rare gift on Kadara.” _I hope someday soon I can offer it to you, too_. “And I’m sorry about...Zia.” _Next time, I won’t involve you in personal business._ He couldn’t say all of the things in his heart, and she didn’t answer. 

Then, “I’ll see you around, Reyes.” The call abruptly disconnected. Shit. Had he lost her? 

He spent the rest of the evening drafting and deleting messages to her, until the bottle of moonshine was empty and his eyes drifted shut. 

***

He dreamt of her, a disjointed nightmare of pursuit and loss. She took off from Kadara’s surface in her Tempest as he pursued, futily, in a shuttle that kept falling farther and farther behind. Then, in the inexplicable way of dreams, the scene shifted. They were facing each other in the badlands. The sulfur-scented winds whipped stands of her blue hair into her eyes, eyes that were hard behind the barrel of the pistol she was pointing in his face. “You lied to me, Reyes,” she accused grimly as a grinning, triumphant Sloane and vicious Kaetus appeared behind her. “You lied, but I always knew what Sloane was, so I've chosen her.” 

Kaetus lunged for Reyes, and the smuggler was too slow to escape, his feet unable to move, his legs like jelly in disbelief and fear. The turian’s bare-handed talons closed around his throat and lifted him, kicking, into the air. “I never lied!” Reyes pleaded with Ryder as Kaetus growled into his ear, “We’re going to have some fun now, Charlatan.”

With a muffled shout Reyes fought his way to wakefulness, rubbing his throat to check for bloody clawmarks and finding none. _A dream_ , he thought, rattled. _Only a dream_. Ryder wouldn't betray him to Sloane after she confessed to liking him, would she?

He had to get her back. Had to convince her to take his side. Blinking away the rest of his sleep, he pulled up the last message he'd been composing. 

_< In case you were wondering…_

_My taste in women has improved since I ended things with her._

_Reyes >_

Not knowing what else to say just yet, but knowing he couldn't let her stew without word from him, he sent it. Next on his list was Keema. 

“Vidal, this had better be bloody important. It's 4 in the morning.”

“When is Sloane’s next party?” he asked, ignoring her squawk of indignation. “Keema? Please.”

“Hmph,” she grumped, slightly mollified. “As far as I know, there isn't one.”

“Can you nudge her that way? And get me on the list?”

“That's a rather big ask, Reyes. You'll owe me.” 

Reyes snorted. Keema loved having people owe her favors, and especially loved when it was Reyes who owed since the opportunity was so rarely available. “Fine. But only if the party happens within a week.”

Keema pounced. “I'll make it happen, but only if you bring a guest. The Pathfinder. I want to meet her.”

Bingo. Exactly what he had hoped she would say. “Keema…” he huffed, wanting to come off as reluctant so she wouldn't know she'd been had. “We're not on the best terms just now, and she left to check on her colonies.”

“If I can convince Sloane to throw a party and get you on the guest list, you can find a way to get the Pathfinder here for it. Do we have a deal?”

Reyes paused just long enough for her to think he was considering it. “Deal.”

“Good. What are you after this time, anyway?”

He grinned. _Aside from winning over Ryder?_ “Oh, you know...business. There's something I need to liberate from one of her storerooms.”

Keema chuckled. “You're impossible. Just don't get caught.” She ended the call.

Now all he had to do was get Ryder to give him one more chance.

His email pinged with a new response from her. Grinning, he scanned its contents...and then read them again more slowly, grin widening. 

_< I’ve never had good taste in men. The worst, actually. They never quite seem to do all the exciting things they promise._

_You better be able to use that tongue for more than skipping out on tabs. I'm getting tired of being left to fantasize about what else you can do with it._

_Don't disappoint me again. >_

Now more than ever he wanted her to himself for an evening. It would be difficult to keep his second identity secret whilst being fully himself in every other respect, but it was worth the risk if he’d finally found someone who truly could be his queen and equal. 

He needed Keema to come through on that party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feeling guilty, Reyes? 
> 
> For those interested in songs, I was playing "All or Nothing (feat Axel Ehnstrom)" by Lost Frequencies whilst writing this: _If you go all in, you got a lot to lose, my friend. / All or nothin'. / If you say you're in, you don't get to choose again. / All or nothin'._
> 
> Sorry for the lack of smut in this chapter; his mood didn't seem conducive to it and I couldn't force it. Buuuut the next pair of chapters will focus on that rooftop party and all of the game's missed opportunities. (Hint: Ryder doesn't go home with just a kiss.) ;)


	7. Kadara Nights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sloane's party, the rooftop...and an extension, because there was so much more that could have been done there. Smut.

The asari ark lead on Eos was just going to take them to a further lead. Typical. Still, Ryder supposed it was better than nothing. The asari’s powerful biotics would give an advantage in the war against the kett if they could find them.

Cora was exclaiming about her idol and quoting bits of asari war texts again as they boarded the Tempest. Amazing how the woman could forget her grudge when Ryder was doing what the commando would have done were she Pathfinder instead. 

“Where to now, Pathfinder?” Kallo asked over the ship comm system. Ryder opened her mouth to answer, and paused as a chirp sounded from her omnitool. She glanced at it as she stripped off her greaves and couldn't stop her wicked smile. 

_< Ryder, _

_Thanks again for your help with Zia. And the Roekaar. I owe you something special. And I think I found just the thing. Give me a call when you have a minute - I promise you won’t be disappointed._  
  
Reyes  >

Reyes wanted her to call him? And what was this “something special”?

“I'll let you know in 5 minutes, Kal,” she shouted on her way to the vidcom. Unsurprisingly, the man picked up immediately.

“Ryder! I was just thinking about you,” he greeted her. 

“I’d love to hear more, but this isn’t a private channel,” she reminded him.

“I could tell you over drinks.” 

Apparently Queen Sloane was having a party, and Reyes wanted her to join him there as his plus one. Was this a date?

He promised to be a gentleman, but that’s not what she wanted. “And if I don’t want you to be a gentleman?”

“That can be arranged,” he purred. Fuck. That response, in that tone, made warmth spread in her groin. She had no idea what a Kadaran smuggler would consider un-gentlemanly, but she was certain that it would be exactly what she needed. They set a meeting point and she ended the call. 

“Kallo! We're going back to Kadara. SAM, have everyone do a check for any gear they need and forward the list to Vetra to stock up when we get there. We’ll be chasing up the asari ark and that lead on H-047c after we're done on Kadara.”

Cora was waiting for her at the bottom of the ramp, a disgusted look on her face. “We finally get a solid lead on the asari ark, and you want to go back to Kadara to flirt with your smuggler,” she accused flatly. 

Ryder cocked an eyebrow at her. “What happened to lots of colonists waking up, just in time for a harvest? Securing Kadara will provide another world for the sleepers we already have waiting on the Hyperion to settle, making room for the Leusinia to awaken its sleepers when we find her. I won't apologise for making different choices than you would, Harper. Dismissed.” 

Cora stood in her path a moment too long to be respectful before throwing a mocking salute and storming off to her hidey-hole.

“For what it's worth,” Peebee chirped from the research console, “I'd make the same choice. Kadara, I mean. If only because a sexually frustrated Pathfinder is a distracted Pathfinder. What? Everyone knows you and -” 

With a glare, Ryder did her own storming off. She didn't want to know what everyone thought they knew about her and Reyes.

***

“Kadara coming up,” Kallo’s clipped salarian tones announced from the speakers in Ryder’s quarters. With a sigh, Ryder slipped back into her usual casual outfit: black and turquoise trousers and jacket, charcoal scarf, boots. She had no idea what kind of party Sloane would throw, but Ryder would be damned if she showed up in a dress and heels. Reyes could take her as she was, or not at all.

“Knock ‘em dead, Laz. Just be careful, and call for backup if you need us,” Vetra waved as she stepped off the ship. Ryder flashed the turian a grin, not surprised that her friend was already negotiating docking fees. The Tempest’s quartermaster may have been vocal in her opposition to Ryder’s association with Reyes, but she recognized that Ryder would do whatever she was going to do and the only viable solution was having her back.

“You'll be the first one I call,” promised Ryder. Vetra nodded sharply, more of a salute than Cora had offered, and turned back to haggling with the dockmaster.

She had a feeling that dropping her name and title at the door to Sloane’s throneroom wouldn’t do much, but she tried it anyway. She was running late and couldn’t get ahold of Reyes. He was probably already inside. 

“There’s no Ryder on the list,” the guard told her. She tensed, wondering what Reyes was playing at, when she heard his smooth voice and soft footsteps approaching from behind her. 

“She’s with me. Reyes Vidal,” he supplied before walking past the guard, completely unconcerned. Exasperated, she followed him when the guard cleared her. _A smuggler can walk right in, but not the Pathfinder? Only on Kadara._

When she caught up to him, he was approaching a tall angaran woman. Pretty, and clearly pleased to see him. If this was another ex-girlfriend, Ryder was going back to the Tempest and never setting foot on Kadara again. 

She wasn’t an ex though, just a friend. Ryder was surprised; she hadn’t thought Reyes had any of those. The angaran’s self-assurance, clear intelligence, and greater interest in herself rather than Reyes won her over. Ryder’s attention sharpened when Keema said, “You’re all he talks about lately.” _That_ was interesting. They were close enough that Reyes talked to her? _Tell me more_ , Ryder thought interestedly. 

Reyes interjected, saying he needed to go take care of something, and Ryder felt her mood drop. He was abandoning her, after inviting her here? 

“And there he goes,” mused Keema. 

“Any idea what he’s up to?” Ryder couldn’t help but ask. 

Keema paused for a moment. “It’s...better not to worry about what Reyes does. Enjoy the party.”

Ryder wondered what Keema had wanted to say. She’d learned from Jaal that angara found it hard to keep their thoughts and emotions inside, and something about Reyes was clearly bothering her. 

Ryder mingled a bit, taking some small joy in antagonizing both Sloane and Kaetus before returning to Keema and asking how she met Reyes. Apparently the smuggler’s skills really were as valuable as he’d implied. It was the angara’s obvious reserve that sent Ryder looking for Reyes. 

“Reyes, where are you?” she grumbled into her comm.

“No answer. But I believe he headed to one of the side rooms when we arrived, Pathfinder,” SAM supplied, being helpful for once. “Let’s see what he’s up to,” Ryder muttered. 

Breaking into the storeroom was easy. Reyes was alone, knelt in front of a shipping container and griping about serial numbers. “Take the night off, come out for a drink,” Ryder mocked, pleased when he startled. “Should’ve known you were up to something.”

“Ryder! It’s not what it looks like,” he said coaxingly. 

She’d had it. Fuck this. No man could fuck well enough to be worth this much trouble. She opened her mouth to tell him so and he glanced over her shoulder. “Shit! Someone’s coming.”

Neither of them were supposed to be there, and they needed a distraction if they weren’t going to end up like Vehn Terev. Without thinking about it, Ryder stepped up to him and kissed him, one hand on his shoulder. After a beat of hesitation, Reyes relaxed with an “Mmmm…” sound of pleasure, taking control of the kiss with one hand on the back of her head and pulling her closer to him with a hand on her hip. Her irritation was forgotten as she wrapped an arm around his shoulder, lost in the kiss. Distantly she heard a guard apologize, but it was secondary to the way Reyes’ lips felt on hers. _Okay. He miiiiight be worth the trouble..._

Reyes pulled away first, his eyes checking over her shoulder again, and she felt an unusual sense of comfort that he was literally watching her back. 

“I think we’re in the clear,” he said, an odd tone to his voice. 

“Maybe another kiss? Just to be sure,” she suggested. 

“Now you’re just teasing me,” he said, voice lower than usual. She snickered lightly. If only he knew. She watched, eyes on his ass, as he climbed some of the crates to reach in and grab....whiskey? This whole thing was about whiskey?

“This isn’t whiskey,” he insisted, cradling the bottle as if it was an infant. “It’s treasure.” Ryder didn’t give a shit, as long as he shared. It was about time she got the holiday she’d been wanting ever since waking up in SAM node after her premature death on Habitat 7.

“Let’s get out of here,” he said, grabbing her hand and pulling her into a run. She couldn’t help but laugh, feeling like a kid again. 

***

He took her to a perch atop some shipping containers with an incredible view of the Kadaran sunset. Pinks and oranges blended with the blue lights and acid-pocked white gypsum rock of the port to create a fantasy landscape, the like of which she’d never seen in all her travels in the Milky Way. It was completely alien and for the first time in her life, Ryder felt like she was home.

The scenery seemed to engender a certain mood in Reyes. “Is Andromeda everything you hoped it would be?” 

Ryder sighed, tired of putting up walls and pasting a good face on everything. Reyes wanted her body and, she strongly suspected, her connections; he didn’t need a saviour, a guide, or a cheerleader. If she could be herself with anyone in this galaxy, she felt it was him. “This is more than I signed up for,” she admitted. They sat in silence for a moment before she asked, “What about you? Why did you come here, Reyes?” She passed him the whiskey bottle, now a third empty, as he considered his answer. He took a long draw on the bottle. _This should be interesting._

“To be someone.” His voice was quiet, halting. Surprised, Ryder glanced over her shoulder to find him looking off at the horizon. She’d never seen him like this - a little downcast, somewhat vulnerable. It made her feel unsure of herself. She studied him a moment, sensing that he was reciprocating her openness by offering her a piece of himself, before shifting to sit alongside him and press her shoulder against his. 

“You’re someone to me.”

He went still, then half-turned, seeming to evaluate her before reaching to cup her cheek.

“I’m starting to think that kiss was more than just a distraction.”

And if Ryder was truthful with herself, it had been. She was certain he was holding something back about the Charlatan, but she wanted Reyes, criminal or not, exile or not. Whatever he was, she wanted him. They had too much chemistry for her to walk away now.

He leaned in without her needing to say another word, pulling her towards him into a passionate kiss, as if all of his vulnerability was packed up in that gesture. 

A few minutes later, she broke away, gasping. She was falling for him - had already fallen - and it scared her. She had always managed to hold herself apart, enjoying herself without giving anything. Had never looked for, wanted, or needed love from anyone other than her mother and brother after Alec Ryder walked out on his family and gifted her with the realization of how easily people could abandon you.

He didn’t move to pull her back towards him, only cocked his head to regard her. “Too much?” he asked gently. Ryder could only pant, searching his amber-hazel eyes. What was he playing at? Did he want her, or the power she could offer as Pathfinder? Could they ever be just Ryder and Reyes? Did he love her back? “Pathfinder, are you well?” SAM asked on their private channel. She ignored him.

“Reyes....I….”

He dropped his hand, started to pull away with a disappointed look. No. No, she couldn't run away from this again. She pulled herself into his lap in a breathless movement. Golden eyes met aqua, searchingly, before he carefully pressed his lips to hers in another kiss. Stronger when she didn’t move away, arms wrapping around her to press their bodies flush together when she didn’t try to escape again. 

Ryder wrapped her arms around his neck, allowing herself to enjoy him. The next time they separated, she fixed him with what she hoped was a smoldering look. “So...do you want to get out of here?”

The heated smile that lit up his face could have melted all the ice on Voeld. “I have a little place nearby. Nothing fancy, but it's got a door and a bed so the whole port doesn’t see the Pathfinder being ravaged by a good-for-nothing scoundrel,” he suggested. She nodded, biting her lip in excitement.

Together they slid off the containers. Reyes steadied her with a hand on her hip when they landed, turning the movement into a swift kiss before he took her hand and pulled her into a run.

***

He hadn’t been joking when he said it was a little place. It looked to have started life as a single small room in a larger prefabricated building, out of which had been carved a studio apartment. It was bare, with an unlived-in feeling that told her this wasn’t home for him. Just a place he could use when he needed to.

The door sealed behind her and he trapped her against it as he stole her breath with another deep kiss, thrilling her with artful movements of his tongue. _A hint of things to come?_ She hoped so. Sliding her hands up his chest, she shucked his jacket from his shoulders and let it drop to the floor. Undid the belt holding his holster with deft fingers, having eyed it enough times to have a good idea how to get it off him, and dropped that onto the jacket with a muffled thud. 

His hands were busy too, peeling her out of her own jacket and stripping her belt. The scarf he left, twisting it slightly before stepping back and pulling her towards the bed. A momentary, reflexive panic flashed through her, remembering the feeling of asphyxiation on Habitat 7. He must have caught it because he dropped the scarf, letting it slither to the floor, and grabbed her around the waist instead. That was better. She gave a little hop and wrapped her legs around him, latching on as he took the remaining few steps to the bed and sat on it with her in his lap. _Almost back to where we left off before..._

He kissed her again, seeming to seek her soul. She moaned into his mouth, momentarily overcome, and then his fingers were in her hair, pulling her head back to kiss her neck. She didn’t fight him, even as he slowly turned and guided her onto her back on the bed. As he kept tugging, slowly, carefully, arching her spine until her throat was fully exposed to him, breasts pointing skywards. Until only her hips could move against him because of the strength with which he controlled her head. 

“Tell me if you don’t want this,” he growled as he kissed the skin of her neck. Ryder’s only answer was to buck her hips against his. He took a tighter grip in her hair, slipped a hand up her shirt to tease a nipple.

“Reyes…” she moaned. Instantly he stopped, and she writhed. “No! Please…”

“Please what? What do you want, Pathfinder?”

She could only move from the hips down in this position, so that’s what she did. Reyes nipped at her throat and the hand at her breast shifted down to undo her trousers, slide into them smooth as silk. “This?” he breathed. Ryder whimpered. She wanted more than that, but at this point, she’d take what he was offering. This was where they'd been interrupted in his room at Tartarus, and she wanted to find out what he'd had planned for that evening.

“Say it,” he insisted as his fingers circled her entrance, flicked against her clit, teasing her. “I won’t take a person against their will, even with just my fingers.” 

“Reyes, please…” she begged.

“Say it,” he insisted again, more roughly. She gave in. “I want this…” she breathed into his ear as he kissed the corner of her jaw. 

Her breath turned into a cry as the fingers teasing her dove into her core, plunging into her slick wetness, moving and flickering against that special spot deep inside her. His other hand released her hair and covered her mouth instead. 

“Shhhh…it’s dangerous to make too much noise in Kadara Port,” he purred as she bucked against him. Ryder’s eyes locked with his as he simultaneously fucked her with his fingers and silenced her, pulled sounds from her and smothered them. She panted behind his hand, trying to give voice to her pleasure as he both dragged it higher and muted it. 

Faster than she would have believed possible, she felt her body clench around his fingers. Felt him bite her throat as she came, thought she would explode.

When she started to relax he released her, gazing down at her with a look of pure longing. “We're not finished yet,” he promised. Ryder nodded in agreement, still wordless, eyeing the considerable bulge in the front of his trousers with anticipation. 

Reyes sat up slowly, looking at her with mild concern when she remained supine. “Don’t tell me the Pathfinder survived Remnant vaults and the kett to be broken at the hand of a Kadaran smuggler,” he quipped. Ryder sat up with a snarl. Reyes was better with his fingers than most men were with their dicks, but she’d be damned if she let him get away with just that. 

Oddly, that seemed to please him. Reyes smiled, darted in to steal a kiss, and then stood to roll his shirt over his head, toe his boots off, and slide his trousers down over his hips. Ryder watched, lips parted, as they slid down to puddle at his feet. He kicked out of them, eyes on her face, and stepped to the bed. He was a gorgeous man, built with the muscle that came from actual hard work rather than vain efforts in a gym. Leaning forward, he tugged her shirt and bra over her head, grinning when her perky tits bounced in their freedom. 

She couldn't help herself. Hands on his hips, she tugged him forward another step, shifting one hand to his generously-sized cock to guide him into her mouth. He groaned, tipping his head back and grasping a handful of her hair.

Ryder let him slip out of her mouth. “You want this, then?” she asked devilishly. In answer, he used his grip on her hair and a hand under her jaw to bury himself deep in her throat. She hummed, leading to another groan. He drew back and she swirled her tongue around the head, only for him to slide in again.

He pulled back after a few minutes, running a thumb along her bottom lip as she flicked her tongue at it. “Ryder…I could finish now, but I want to be properly inside you.”

Ryder pulled away languidly, resting back on her elbows. He yanked her trousers and boots off, throwing them aside, and she spread her knees. He gazed at her appreciatively for a moment, then climbed onto the bed. Positioned himself between her legs and dropped his head to her ear. “You have no idea how long I've wanted you,” he whispered.

She bucked upward, trying to join them. “Probably as long as I've wanted you,” she whispered back. With that, Reyes took her, one hand at the back of her neck, the other at the base of his cock ensuring he went straight to her core. Both shuddered when he was sheathed in her, their long wait finally ended. A brief pause, looking deep into each other's eyes and finding only heat, want, need. He began to move against her, slowly at first, then faster, then roughly, passionately, as she met each of his thrusts with a lift of her hips and a moan of desire. Both of them grunting with the force of his impact. Lips meeting in sloppy kisses only to break away to bite at exposed necks, shoulders, chests. Ryder's head thrown back and nails clawing down Reyes’ back as she climaxed to make him roar in a mixture of pain and pleasure. As he finished in turn, driving deep into her, she screamed his name. He sucked on the skin of her breast, over her heart, marking her as his.

For a moment neither of them moved to separate. Their chests heaved from their exertions, sweat sticking where they touched. Golden-hazel eyes became her entire world. 

After a moment, he withdrew and moved to the bathroom. His absence after so much closeness filled her with a feeling of loss, frightening in its intensity. He reappeared moments later with a towel for the inevitable wet spot, and her heart melted. No-one else had ever given a shit before, either leaving her to scurry to the bathroom or be damply miserable. He might be a scoundrel, but he was more thoughtful than anyone she’d ever been with.

When he shifted her to her side and tucked her in against him, the sensible part of her keeping him distant shattered and she wiggled back into him, wanting to feel his warmth, maintain the connection they’d found during sex. She’d fully intended to get up and head back to the Tempest after taking what she needed from him, but the comfort of his arms lulled her to sleep. 

The next time she woke, Ryder was in a strange room with daylight streaming in. She was naked, but that was less important than figuring out where she was. She was dimly aware of a biotic flare as she looked around wildly. 

“There is no threat, Pathfinder,” SAM assured her. She looked at the man in her bed - her bed? The bed - more closely, relieved to find it was Reyes, murmuring soothing words. 

“Or Shena, whichever you prefer,” he said in response to her saying his name, clearly trying to settle her. She didn’t blame him; her reaction to awakening in an unfamiliar setting had sent lesser men running. The fact that he was still there, laying motionless to avoid presenting a threat, made her allocate points in his favor. She sighed in relief, wiggling back down to lay tucked in at his side, unable to help twining herself over and around him as much as possible. She felt _good_ , better than she had since waking up in Andromeda. 

She apologized for the way she’d awakened them. It was embarrassing when she did that; normally she was a lighter sleeper and wakefulness was less startling. On the rare occasion that she did fall into a deep sleep, her reflexes usually over-compensated. 

He kissed the top of her head and replied lightly, “Don’t be sorry. I’m just glad the guns are on the other side of the room.” 

That was a very good point. She was sure that given his line of work he was probably a shoot first, apologize later kind of guy, and she smiled into the sparse hair on his chest. “It usually scares men off when I do that that.” 

Somehow he quickly rolled them, catching her beneath him without hurting her. She hadn’t been expecting it and looked up in aroused surprise, feeling goosebumps rise when he growled into her ear, “I’m not most men.”

He grazed her neck with his teeth before planting nipping kisses down her body. _Oooh...am I about to see what that mouth can do, Shena?_ From between her legs, he glanced up, seeming to ask permission, and she nodded. Oral wasn’t usually her favorite act to be on the receiving end of, but after her dream and his insinuations, she wanted to see if he could deliver. 

He started gently, almost too gently at first, working up to stronger strokes of his tongue, varying his movements while exploring her folds. He was good enough that she actually managed to relax into it and enjoy herself, especially when he found the right combo of strong flicks to her clit. He slid a finger into her, adding a second when she moaned, and worked her with fingers and tongue. Faster than she would have thought possible, she felt her climax rising. Unable to help herself, she took hold of his hair with both hands, crying out his name as she shuddered and clenched. 

He was fantastic, but she needed more. He’d only stoked the fire, not banked it, and she used her grip on his hair to guide him upwards, tasting herself in his kiss. “Fuck me,” she demanded, aroused further by the light in his eyes. “Hard.”

“With pleasure,” he said, and he did, plunging himself all the way in, scarcely withdrawing only to slam back in at a pace he probably couldn’t sustain for long. She didn’t need him to. It seemed like he was giving her all of him, body, heart, and soul, and the intensity of it shut down all higher thinking until there were only her body and his moving perfectly in sync. She gripped his arms, feeling herself rising...rising...peaking in the most incredible orgasm she could ever remember having. 

The combination of fierce emotion and consuming physical sensation was overwhelming. It was nothing Ryder had ever experienced before, and she couldn’t let go of him for long moments. He’d have the half-moons of her fingernails on his arms for days, but she didn’t release him until she was able to come back to herself, chasing away the fog with a deep breath. She didn’t know what her expression was, but if it was anything like his they were both done for. They were good together, in a way she’d never expected. He drew feelings out of her that she hadn’t known existed. 

Rotating onto his side, he gathered her in his arms, front to front, and rested his head on hers. She closed her eyes, finding peace.

“Pathfinder, the crew are discussing whether a search party will be necessary. Will you be returning soon?” SAM’s synthetic voice cut through her dreamy detachment, and she sighed. _Dammit, SAM, again with timing_. It could have been worse; he could have interrupted while she was...busy...with Reyes. 

She shifted in his arms, not wanting to leave, but feeling the weight of her responsibilities dragging her away from him. “I have to go. SAM says the crew is getting restless, and I don’t think either of us wants the attention of a search party from the Tempest.”

Reyes nodded, letting her go reluctantly. She peeked at him sprawled out on the bed, his lower half covered by the sheet, head resting on his arm. He looked like a fantasy, and it was all she could do not to strip again and jump back into bed. She turned to the door to grab her belt, settling it over her hips, and had just finished buckling it when powerful arms wrapped around her from behind.

“I’ll miss you,” he murmured quietly, sounding like the words or the feeling behind them were something new to him. She turned in his embrace to kiss him, wanting to leave less than ever, and promising to return. She took a last, long look at him before stepping back. He opened the door and locked it behind her. 

“SAM, tell the crew I’m on my way back. We’ll leave for H-047c as soon as everyone is aboard to see what’s going on there and make sure it’s not a threat to the Nexus.” 

“Understood, Pathfinder. Message relayed.”

It was with a blankly thoughtful expression that Ryder strolled back onto the Tempest, head down and hands in her pockets. Peebee and Vetra, both poised and ready to dig in with jokes, glanced at each other and stayed silent as Ryder headed straight back for her quarters. 

“She’s walking like someone who’s been fucked, but what’s with the face?” Peebee whispered. 

“No idea. I’ll check in with her later,” Vetra replied. After the Zia incident, she’d expected Ryder to come back either rage and thunder or smirks and laughter, but this serious pensiveness had trouble written all over it - especially if Ryder ended up staying the night.


	8. Getting the Girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night on the Town mission from Reyes' POV. Smutty smut.

Reyes approached Kralla’s Song with an unusually light heart. He had a buyer to meet and had identified what he was going to lift from Sloane’s warehouse to make good on his lie to Keema about wanting to acquire something as his reason for wanting the party. Ryder had sent a flirty message from Eos, so it seemed she’d forgiven him for his missteps. Or her libido had, in any case. All he needed now was…

His omnitool beeped and he ducked into a corner. “Keema!” he greeted the angaran warmly, but quietly.

“You’re in an unusually good mood, Vidal,” Keema said. “Sloane’s party is on. You have three days to drag the Pathfinder back from whatever hellhole you’ve scared her off to, or you’ll owe me an even bigger favor.” 

_This day can’t get any better,_ he thought. “Evfra doesn’t call me Shena for nothing,” Reyes replied with a chuckle in his voice. “She’ll be there, or I’ll go kidnap her myself.”

“You must _really_ like her if you’ll break your code of ethics and stoop to kidnapping,” Keema said, slyly. “Have you told her yet?” 

Reyes’ good mood turned sour. “No. And if _you_ tell her at the party, we’ll have a problem,” he said in a voice like steel. “I will tell her, soon, but when I gamble with my life I want to be reasonably sure I’ll win.” 

“I’ll never understand humans,” Keema replied, immune to the implied threat. “You’ll share the intimacy of your bodies before that of your hearts and minds, risk creating a child before you’d risk creating understanding.” When he didn’t reply, she continued. “Be careful, Reyes. You may be in more danger when she finds out than you would be if you simply told her.”

He huffed a huge sigh of frustration. “I will tell her. In my own time. When I’m sure she won’t turn me over to Sloane for the price of an outpost.” 

Keema ended the call without responding, which he’d learned was a sign that she thought he was being a complete idiot but knew he wouldn’t listen to reason. Irritated, he headed into Kralla’s to meet his buyer. The deal took longer than he thought it would, and the buyer was an especially cantankerous krogan trying to get a deal on supplies for their colony on Elaaden, so he left the bar with a good deal less enthusiasm than he’d had on his way up. 

As soon as he got back to Tartarus he sent Ryder a message asking him to call him as soon and was delighted when she come through minutes later. Her voice was huskier than usual, her eyes more heavily-lidded. Mmmm. She was primed. If he couldn’t wrangle her back to Kadara, he didn’t deserve the name Shena. 

“Are you...asking me out?” she asked hesitantly when he told her about Sloane’s party. 

“I promise to be a perfect gentleman,” he offered. She would dictate the next move. 

“And if I don’t want you to be a gentleman?” she tossed back, lifting her chin defiantly. Reyes felt a thrill go through him. He had her. After all the fuck-ups and setbacks, he had her, as himself if not as the Charlatan. At this point in the game, he’d take the win. It could be built upon later. 

He didn’t bother to hide the dark pleasure in his voice, enjoying the shiver in her holographic image as he purred, “That can be arranged.” _Oooh Ryder, that can definitely be arranged…_

They set the meeting and signed off. He rang through to Keema. “She’s coming,” he announced without preamble, smirking to himself. _She certainly will come, if I have anything to do with it._ “Don’t put her on the list though. I want her to go in with me. We’ll be fashionably late.”

Keema barked a laugh, congratulated him, and closed the comm channel. 

***

Three days passed too slowly for Reyes. He filled them with a flurry of activity, trying to get ahead of all the Collective’s outstanding business in preparation for an uninterrupted night with Ryder. Whatever it was he felt for her - and he still wasn’t sure whether he was falling in love, or just desperately wanted to fuck the woman - he couldn’t deny his singular attraction for her. The Pathfinder, aside from being a route to power, was intriguing for what he’d observed about her. She was young, but with the knowledge of an elder in her startling aqua eyes; quick to resort to violence, though not taking particular pleasure in it; settling into a role that by all accounts shouldn’t have gone to her, and excelling. Every contact he’d reached out to for information had spoken of her in tones of both fear and awe, but never disrespect. The side of him that wanted better for Kadara clamored for him to secure her as an ally for the Collective; the darker, more primal side of him just wanted to dominate her, fuck her senseless, take her for his own and damn the rest. He knew he wasn’t a good man, and didn’t feel at all guilty about the pleasure he felt when the bad side of him revelled in the idea of claiming her.

Finally the day of the party arrived. The dockmaster, Dalton, sent him a message confirming the arrival of the Tempest. _Not a minute to spare_ , Reyes thought as he ascended from the slums in the lift. His steps were quicker than usual; not running, but eager. Tonight was the night. He could feel it. 

As was now a habit, he got there early enough to tuck into a corner and watch for Ryder’s approach. He wasn’t conscious of how his breath caught when she sauntered into view, all confidence and attitude as she strolled into Outcast HQ. Keeping his head down, he watched her as she passed. She hadn’t noticed him. Perfect. 

He slipped in behind her, stifling a laugh as she tried to impress the guard on the door, to no avail. “She’s with me,” he interjected smoothly, giving his name and not waiting for the guard’s response as he kept walking. He heard her _psh_ of irritation as the guard accepted his credentials over hers, fast footsteps catching up with him. Kept walking past Kaetus as if he hadn’t a thing to worry about, ignoring the cold sweat that broke out on his spine at the memory of the turian strangling him in his dream. 

Keema was scanning the room, and turned as she caught sight of him. “Reyes Vidal,” she said, almost mockingly. “I was beginning to think you wouldn’t show.” 

“Remember what I said about ‘fashionably late?’” he reminded her. The angaran woman was too intrigued by the Pathfinder to care, demanding an introduction. 

“Pathfinder. Meet Keema Dohrgun, the angaran representative to Sloane. And a friend,” he added as Keema preened, hands on her hips, clearly flattered by Reyes’ acknowledgement of her as a friend. 

“I didn’t think Reyes had friends, only contacts and colleagues,” Ryder said, clearly fishing. 

“Oh, I’m those as well,” Keema said lightly. “Who do you think secured him an invitation to this event? I was hoping he’d bring you, Pathfinder. You’re all he talks about, lately.”

From his position slightly behind Ryder, Reyes scowled at Keema. Damn the woman for saying that. But Ryder just seemed interested. “Is that so?” she asked, a note of relief and satisfaction in her voice. Reyes relaxed and excused himself, as it seemed Keema and Ryder weren’t going to either fight each other or reveal all his secrets to one another. He still needed to secure that special item, after all. Ryder was predictably disappointed that he was leaving, very much so, but he’d make it up to her later. And then some. 

Slipping back out the door, he idled with his back and one foot against the wall until the guards moved on before darting to the door of the storeroom. It was the work of moments to hack it. The room was a mess and he hoped he’d find what he was looking for before being interrupted. 

As it happened, Ryder was the interruption. His search had taken too long, and she’d left the party to look for him. He’d been hoping Keema would detain her a few minutes longer. The Pathfinder was clearly unimpressed to find him in a storeroom, having abandoned her to chat with Sloane and the other party-goers. Shit. This was going downhill again. 

The approach of one of Sloane's guards saved him. “We need a distraction,” he declared. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected her to come up with - probably something violent, given what he’d seen of her so far. The kiss took him by surprise. He hesitated a moment, unused to being the hunted rather than the hunter, before instinct took over. He kissed her back, half his attention on the door, the rest on her, glorying in the taste of her mouth. His body was on autopilot, hands grasping her at head and hip, as his mind screamed at him to get out, to escape, before Sloane’s guards could catch him, torture him, make him reveal himself as the Charlatan. 

“Oh! Sorry…” Reyes broke the kiss and looked up to see the guard retreating. Ryder had been mad at him, but had saved him nonetheless. 

Did that mean it was safe to tell her?

Shoving the thought aside for later consideration, he climbed up on a crate made a final dig for the whiskey he’d been searching for. _Got it_ , he thought with satisfaction.

“That’s what this was all about? Whiskey?” 

He was losing her again. If nothing else, the blue-haired Pathfinder would keep him on his toes. Failing to convince her of the value of a triple-distilled, 645-year-old Mount Milgrom whiskey, he grabbed her hand and pulled her into his wake. Maybe where alcohol failed, romance would succeed. Her wild laughter gave him hope. 

He led her to the top of some shipping containers around the corner from Sloane’s, hoping they hadn’t missed the sunset. They were in luck. The sun hovered on the horizon, seemingly a few dozen meters from setting. They sat drinking in companionable silence for a few minutes, sitting at an angle to each other on adjoining sides of the container and watching the sinking sun. It was, Reyes reflected, the most romantic setting he’d ever encountered in two galaxies. 

“Is Andromeda everything you hoped it would be?” He wasn’t sure where the question had come from. It simply popped out of his mouth, and he turned to see how Ryder would take it. She fiddled with the bottle, not looking at him, gaze focused on the horizon. 

“I knew things wouldn’t be easy, but this is more than I signed up for,” she admitted quietly. Reyes was taken aback, both by her honesty and by the protective feelings arising in him. He’d never felt inclined to protect an individual before. General feelings of wanting better for a populace, especially if it benefitted him in some way, but never particularly caring for an individual. And never for an individual as capable as Ryder. His intel said she was young, and she looked it, but until now he’d only seen the cocky valkyrie who threw singularities and flames. This more vulnerable side to Ryder put her in a new category. She was definitely a contact, and a useful one with her high-level connections to the Initiative. Her aid with ending the Roekaar murders and getting the Oblivion formula had edged her into the realm of colleague, and her attractiveness made her an option for a sexual encounter. But this...could she be a friend? Or...more?

“What about you?” she asked after a moment of silence, passing him the bottle. “Why did you come here, Reyes?”

A thousand deflective answers shot through his brain. None of them made it to his tongue. _The truth. This truth, I can give her,_ he thought. He took a deep swallow from the whiskey bottle before answering, unaccustomed to revealing himself to anyone with this much honesty. “To be someone,” he said, the words trying to catch in his throat. 

She didn’t answer for a minute and he started to worry that he’d been foolish, that he hadn’t actually caught her after all. Then she shifted to sit alongside him, jostling his shoulder gently with hers. “You’re someone to me,” she offered in soft tones. He heard his fears, his vulnerabilities, echoed in her voice as she turned to him. Overwhelmed with relief, he cupped her jaw with his left hand. “I’m starting to think that kiss was more than just a distraction,” he said, half afraid to breathe the words out loud, before leaning in to kiss her. As their lips touched, he felt some of the walls he’d built around his heart and mind start to tumble. _This truth, I can give you,_ he thought again, pulling her in deeper. 

After a minute, she pulled back. Blue-green eyes wide, searching his. Scared. He’d messed up again, thinking it would be safe to offer her himself. “Too much?” he asked softly as he pulled away. 

“Reyes....I….” _And here’s where she runs_. Reyes steeled himself, scrambling internally to find the pieces of his wall. 

Suddenly she was in his lap, hands on his shoulders. Confused but hopeful, he kissed her tentatively, not wanting her to run again. Her arms slid around his neck and he felt her shudder as she pressed into him. Scarcely hoping, he wrapped his arms around her. She made a small sound, a mixture of need and dismay, and squeezed him. Was this her surrender?

She pulled away first, and his wariness melted at the passion burning in her eyes. “So...do you want to get out of here?” He felt his own smile spread across his face as he told her about the safehouse he had nearby. It wasn’t his home, but it was closer, and safer for both of them if she couldn’t tell anyone where he actually lived. The fire in him roared to life when she nodded her agreement, and he carefully lifted her off his lap before sliding off the container. She followed him, stumbling slightly on a loose stone when she landed, and that protective urge arose in him again as he steadied her. He couldn’t help but kiss her once more before pulling her after him.

Reyes hadn’t been lying when he said the safehouse wasn’t far. It was right under Sloane’s nose, but it was perfect for hiding any new escapees from her jail. It was only little, a salvaged piece of a prefab unit that he’d quietly added a bathroom and rudimentary kitchen to. He was rarely here, and was afraid it showed. He disabled the traps on the door before leading Ryder in, watching her attention flick to different parts of the room, evaluating. He gave her a moment before sealing the door and catching her with her back to it, his passion rising as he tried to master her with his lips alone. 

The little minx surprised him when she slid small hands up his chest and under his jacket, pulling it off his shoulders and tossing it onto the floor without missing a beat in the tango of their tongues. His belt went next. Unable to let that go unanswered, he returned the favor, her jacket and belt falling to the floor. 

Her quiet, nearly-hidden panic when he tried tugging her scarf was unexpected and he felt a flash of rage at whomever, or whatever, had hurt her badly enough that she couldn’t forget it in a moment like this. Immediately he dropped the scarf, not wanting to make her run from him again, and took her round the waist. Within moments she was wrapped around him as if he were the only thing stopping her from being blown away in a cyclone or washed away at high tide. He claimed her lips again, wanting to be that rock for her. Wanting to be the only solid thing in her world just now. She moaned deep in her throat, the sound speeding his backward steps to the bed. _Back to where we left off...Keema, if you call me now, I will kill you myself. Slowly._

Now to see how she liked to play. Gently at first, then with more strength, he snaked his fingers into the hair at the back of her head and pulled. She allowed it more willingly than he’d expected, her throat quickly exposed to him. Laying a quick kiss over the pulse point of her jugular, he used his grip on her hair to carefully pull her down to the bed. She went so easily that the darker side of him took over, kept pulling, until her back arched, chest heaving, nipples uppermost. He knew from experience that she effectively couldn’t move like this, that she was giving herself to him completely, and it excited him. Between the AI in her head and her training and combat experience she could easily have killed him a dozen times over since meeting him, but here she was, panting and moving her hips against him in desire. 

Reyes wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anyone, man or woman, in his life. 

The anticipation alone was killing him, so he resolved to draw it out, see how long he could pleasure her before taking his own. 

“Tell me if you don’t want this,” he said, lips moving against the skin of her throat. She didn’t answer except for a sob of want as her hips bumped against him. Reyes felt his arousal rise even further and tightened his grip in her hair. Still kissing her throat, he reached up her shirt and pinched her nipple. 

“Reyes…” she moaned. Had he misread her? Did she want him to stop?

Apparently not. “No! Please…” she protested when he paused.

“Please what? What do you want, Pathfinder?” 

She writhed against him, unwilling to answer with words even if her body wanted him. Reyes nipped at her throat again and undid her trousers, finding her sopping wet as he explored the surface of her sex. “This?” he breathed. Ryder moaned again. “Say it,” he insisted as he moved his fingers against her, testing, teasing. “I won’t take a person against their will, even with just my fingers.” No matter how much his darker nature wanted her however he could have her, he did have lines. Boundaries that would not be crossed, at least not without clear consent from the other party. 

“Reyes, please…” she begged.

“Say it,” he insisted again, more roughly, as he kissed the soft skin beneath her ear. She was killing him with desire, even as he enjoyed the game. His cock throbbed with wanting to fuck her, but he continued to deny himself. Finally, she consented. “I want this…”

It was all he needed. He plunged into her with two fingers, adding a third as he found her willing and ready. Quickly found the spongy skin that indicated her G-spot, and flicked his fingertips against it. The sounds she made...he almost broke right there, almost pulled himself out of his trousers to take what he wanted. But he’d disappointed her too many times to be selfish, thought of elcor mating rituals and hanar priests to stop from embarrassing himself. Her cries grew louder, and he covered her mouth before the sounds finished him. 

“Shhhh…it’s dangerous to make too much noise in Kadara Port,” he purred as she bucked against him. He maintained eye contact with her throughout, savoring her refusal to close him away from her pleasure until her eyelids fluttered and she came. He bit her throat, unable to deny himself the hint of savagery as she spasmed around his fingers. 

He let her go when she became boneless, still wanting her desperately. “We're not finished yet,” he warned her. She nodded, wordless, eyes shifting to his trousers and widening at the outline of his cock. That pleased him. He knew he was well-endowed, but validation was always welcome. 

Reyes sat up as Ryder remained flat on her back. “Don’t tell me the Pathfinder survived Remnant vaults and the kett to be broken at the hand of a Kadaran smuggler,” he quipped, happy when she pulled herself up. He’d have been disappointed if she’d been conquered so easily, but she was up, and he kissed her before standing to disrobe. 

Her eyes drank him in, still hungry, and he flexed a little more than was necessary, shook his boots off and rolled his trousers down a little more slowly than usual. She looked like a woman fresh from the desert, dying of thirst, presented with an oasis. Hypnotized by the sight of fresh water. 

He leaned forward to strip her of her shirt, enjoying the way her small breasts bounced once freed. She moved swiftly, unexpectedly, to grasp his hips, tug him forward, and guide his length into her mouth. _Ay, Ryder...can you see my fantasies?_ He couldn’t help but grasp her by the hair again. The demons of hell were in this woman, because she let him slide out of her mouth. “You want this, then?” she asked, her eyes laughing at him. He didn’t reply, simply used his grip on her hair and gripped her jaw to slowly plunge into her mouth. Again she surprised him, manipulating the muscles of her throat to allow him to go deeper. _Where has she been all my life?_ He drew back, delighting in the feeling of her tongue spinning round the head of his cock before he thrust in again.

It wasn’t long before he had to stop. He wanted to finish inside her their first time, not like this, and he told her so. Immediately she propped herself back on her elbows, inviting him to take her trousers. He tugged them off more roughly than he’d intended, throwing them aside with her boots, his aching need driving him to haste. She smiled at him like the devil herself, slowly spreading her legs and allowing him his first good look at her. 

She was beautiful down there. Reyes had never had a particular preference for male or female parts, appreciating the human - and on occasion, non-human - form based on all the little imperfections that made an individual unique. That being said, Ryder held particular appeal for him. He couldn’t have said why, sensing only that she was made for him. 

Climbing atop her like a stalking cat, he whispered to her, “You have no idea how long I've wanted you.” When she responded in kind, he couldn’t resist any longer. Grabbing her by the back of her neck neck and using his other hand to guide him, he drove into her, amazed at the feeling of connection with her. From the look in her eyes she was equally as startled. He began to move inside her, hips moving slowly at first, then faster as he gave in to his baser instincts. Her hips met his at every thrust; she bit him with as much fervor as he did her. Her wildness met his savagery, embraced it, welcomed it home. He stopped holding himself back, lost himself in her until the sharp pain of her nails in his back combined with the clench of her pussy around his cock to bring him back to himself, send him over the edge.

The sound of his name on her lips, screamed in pleasure as he spilled his seed deep inside her, was the single sexiest thing he’d ever experienced. She was his, and she’d know it by the mark he left on her chest.

To be fair, he was sure he wore her mark as well, ten long lines down his back. They felt good. They felt like success.

He couldn’t pull away from her for long moments. It wasn’t the sweat sticking between them; it was simply wanting to be close to her. He’d found his queen, his other half, and he never wanted to be separated from her again. 

With reluctance, he withdrew before the moment passed from meaningful to awkward. He wanted nothing more than to cuddle up alongside her, hold her close, but he made himself get up and grab a towel. Nobody wanted to deal with a wet spot in the bed, and his contribution had been generous. 

She tucked it under herself, giving him a wry look of gratitude as he flopped onto the bed and she tucked in at his side. They said nothing for a long while, not needing words to appreciate the depth of the connection they’d found in one another. Only the feeling of skin against skin and the banked flame of passion temporarily satisfied. 

Reyes couldn’t remember ever feeling so...fulfilled by another person. Overcome by the sensation, he gently shifted them both to lay on their sides, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. She snuggled back into him, the movement of her ass against his groin almost enough to start him back up again. 

Her breathing slowed, deepened, and Reyes realized she had fallen asleep. He stroked her face with a gentle forefinger along her cheekbone, partly out of newfound affection, partly in disbelief. As he marveled at the idea of the only active Pathfinder in Andromeda being asleep in his arms, he realized that he wanted her power, her strength, her beauty and wildness, for himself. Wanted this, wanted her, for always. He’d scoffed at people who described feeling that way before, but that was before meeting Ryder.

“ _Eres mi vida_ ,” he whispered to her. And, surprisingly even to him, he meant it. She brought new life to his. He would never be a good man, but he could be _better_. Would be, for her, so that she could be proud to have him standing at her side, a man who was someone of worth and not just a discardable criminal of no consequence aside from his skill in bed.

After a long while of pondering the revelation, he followed her into sleep, face buried in the back of her neck, breathing in the clean citrus and amber scent of her skin and hair. 

***

Reyes had always been the love ‘em and leave ‘em type. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d woken up the morning after with someone else in his bed. So when Ryder startled in his arms, sitting up with a sharp inhalation of breath, he counted them both lucky that they’d fallen asleep naked with their pistols on the other side of the room. 

“Easy, _mi reina_ ,” he soothed, carefully not touching her as her eyes darted around the room to place herself. The blue haze of biotics coated her, and he held himself still. She clearly hadn’t expected to wake up here any more than he had, but where his startlement was dangerous, hers was easily deadly. It was part of what attracted him to her, but it would end him if he wasn’t careful. Reyes Vidal was _always_ careful when it came to his life.

Not finding a threat in the unfamiliar room, her gaze settled on him, stormy at first, then softening. “Reyes,” she said, sounding relieved. 

“Or Shena, whichever you prefer,” he joked, trying to defuse the tense moment. Snorting a laugh, she flopped back down and settled herself with her head on his chest, a hand on his shoulder and one long leg twined between his. The possessiveness of the position wasn’t lost on him, and it comforted him. As lost as he was in her, he would have been screwed if she wasn’t at least somewhat as invested in him. He wrapped an arm around her, squeezing briefly, and felt a stirring in his groin as her thigh rubbed against him. 

“Sorry,” she muttered, clearly embarrassed. Reyes kissed the crown of her head lightly. “Don’t be sorry. I’m just glad the guns are on the other side of the room.” 

He felt her smile against his chest. “It usually scares men off when I do that that.” 

Reyes rolled them, pinning her beneath him. The way her lips parted in a gasp of surprise was arousing, as was the dilation of her pupils and the slight motions she made to test his grip. Pitching his voice low and giving it a hint of threat, he growled into her ear, “I’m not most men.” Goosebumps rose on her skin. Before they had a chance to fall he nipped her neck and started kissing his way down her body, caressing the swell of her breast and hip, until he was between her thighs. He glanced up, looking for permission, and she nodded with hooded eyes. 

He kissed the sensitive skin of her inner thigh before flicking his tongue over her clitoris, gently at first, then with more pressure as she shivered and relaxed into it. He tried a few other techniques, trying to discover what she responded to best: swirls around the hood, strokes along her labia, gentle probing inside her. When he shifted back to her clit, she moaned, “There Reyes, don’t stop…” Good. She wouldn’t leave him guessing and fumbling. He slid a finger into her, testing her readiness, adding a second when she cried out in pleasure. Alternated between caressing her spot, and sliding in and out while keeping his main attention on her clit. 

She fisted her hands in his hair as her back arched and her core clenched. He would never get tired of hearing his name falling from her lips in a groan of pleasure. When she was finished she tugged him up, kissing him soundly before he had a chance to wipe his face. “Fuck me,” she demanded, looking into his eyes with a fire that matched the one raging in him. “Hard.”

“With pleasure,” he said, guiding his now painfully erect cock into her and slamming all the way in, withdrawing to return again in a steady, relentless rhythm that made her dig her nails into his arms. He’d be wearing the crescent-shaped marks for a week, and he loved it.

If anything, this time was more passionate than their first. Reyes considered himself a fast learner, and the successful conclusion of his plans and desires as both Vidal and the Charlatan required that she be completely satisfied with him, so he poured himself into the effort, giving her not only his body but all the ardor and need, all the hidden emotions he carried bottled up inside. She responded in kind, taken to new heights if her vocalizations were any indication. They came together, Reyes reading the signs of her body and letting himself reach climax as she did. 

She clung to him afterward, shaking, before taking a deep, shuddering breath and relaxing her grip on him. The wondering way she looked at him as he pulled out and lay beside her, like he was the only real and good thing in her life...he could die a happy man, and he’d do anything to make sure that didn’t change.

He needed to tell her who he was. Wrestling with himself, he pulled her close and touched his forehead to hers, willing her to take it from his mind. _I’m the Charlatan. I run the Collective, the raiders who attacked you in the badlands were mine, I’m sorry. I gave orders that you weren't to be touched. I wanted to tell you. But I couldn’t risk Sloane finding out._

That was it. Sloane had to die. Not in a few months, when Reyes had whittled her organization down, but now. He had to cut the head off the snake. The next time Ryder was away Sloane would die, and he could reveal himself. Share his plans for Kadara Port, invite her to be his partner. 

He froze when she sighed in disappointment, fearing that she really had read his mind. “I have to go,” she murmured. “SAM says the crew is getting restless, and I don’t think either of us wants the attention of a search party from the Tempest.”

Reyes nodded, a little turned on by the idea that the AI had probably been watching them the whole time, and stayed in bed watching her dress with his head pillowed on his arm. He still couldn’t bring himself to tell her and the moment to do so was slipping away. What truth could he tell her instead? As she was adjusting her belt over those luscious hips, he got up and padded over to her, hugging her from behind. “I’ll miss you,” he admitted quietly, awkwardly, the unfamiliar words trying to stick in his throat. She turned in his arms to kiss him, one hand on his face, the other grasping his arm and setting the nailmarks she’d given him earlier afire. 

“I’ll be back,” she promised, giving him that _look_ again, making his heart thunder in his chest. He let her out, and then she was gone, only the musky odor of sex and a hint of amber remaining. Dressing quickly, he cleaned and tidied the small space before heading back to Tartarus to plan Sloane’s death. 

He wasn’t a good man, but he was an efficient and effective one. Sloane would die this week, and Reyes would come clean to Ryder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! So much smut...are you guys still with me? 
> 
> I've decided to end this work after the next mission (High Noon) and do any other work separately. Thanks for sticking with the story; your kudos and comments give me so much joy and encouragement to write more!


	9. Wild West

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Covering the events of High Noon. Smut, some violence and angst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the feedback on the last couple of chapters, dear readers! Spurred me on to getting these last two finished.

It took three full days to eliminate the Outcast presence on H-047c. Between the light gravity and the intense radiation Lexi was insistent that they not spend too much time at once on the surface of the wrecked planet, even armored and in the Nomad, which meant returning to the ship after clearing out each nest. Ryder considered the time well-spent. Not only did they stop a plot to attack the Nexus, but they also secured a long-term supply of helium-3, enough to fuel the Initiative for decades.

Nobody had said anything about her overnight stay with Reyes, which she was grateful for even if she suspected Vetra had something to do with their silence. She had no idea what she’d say if anyone did ask and the depth of her feelings for the exile made her uncomfortable. She considered herself a logical person, but logic was coming up empty in her search for answers from her heart. Her body was all too willing to take the lead on this one in any case, with every flirtatious email from him sending her straight to her quarters. She was distracted, not sleeping well. Wondering what he was doing, whether he missed her. She certainly missed him. 

The morning of the fourth day, Sloane summoned her to Kadara. _Heading to Kadara is getting to be a bad habit_ , Ryder thought guiltily as she avoided Cora, but they needed that outpost.

***

Sloane seemed more sensitive than usual. Had she been rattled by the Charlatan? Maybe she was harboring a special affection for Kaetus? And why had the Charlatan decided to act now? By all accounts, the Collective’s little war of attrition against the Outcasts had been going on for most of the last year. What had changed to instigate this direct confrontation?

Whatever the case, Ryder wasn’t sure if she wanted to get involved. Her curiosity and need for an outpost got the better of her though, so she told Vetra and Drack to meet her at the forward station outside the slums with the Nomad and headed out. She specifically avoided Tartarus on her way down, needing to focus on the mission and not the feelings swirling in her head...and her groin.

The Charlatan’s choice of a cave for their meeting wasn’t surprising. Draullir, where she’d noticed most of the Collective activity taking place, was riddled with them. This one was even more secluded than most, tucked halfway up a hill and hidden by scattered boulders. A good spot for a quiet coup.

Sloane was waiting for her outside, all bad attitude and sass. Ryder couldn’t imagine how difficult it would be to work with the woman to get an outpost set up, but the Initiative needed worlds, so Ryder needed Kadara. Without knowing who the Charlatan was - and damn Reyes for hiding whatever it was he knew from her - Sloane was her only option.

“Took your sweet time!” the pirate queen called out, her irritation poorly concealed. Nettled, Ryder made her wait another moment, turning to Drack and Vetra. “Wait here,” she ordered, knowing that they’d disobey her as soon as she was in the cave. Drack started to protest and Ryder cut him off. “Like Vetra said, asking after the Charlatan is dangerous. Seeing them might be deadly. If something happens to me, I need you to take a report back to the ship.” Vetra nodded and after a moment, Drack did too. 

“Are you ready, princess?” Sloane snapped. 

_Powers, give me strength,_ Ryder prayed. “Okay! Let’s go.”

They walked into the cave, lit from above by a hole in the ceiling. Ryder glanced around, taking in the small space in moments and noting with unsurprised annoyance that Vetra and Drack had slipped in behind them. 

“I’m picking up two additional life signatures, Pathfinder, other than Nakmor Drack and Quartermaster Nyx,” SAM said over their private channel. “Likely human,” he added after a pause. Ryder nodded minutely and said nothing, but eased away from Sloane and kept scanning with her eyes. It was her ears that told her who was there, though. 

“You look like you’re waiting for someone.”

The words were delivered in a voice colder than Voeld and as unyielding as the Scourge, but she’d heard them before and would know that accent anywhere. She looked up, still stunned when he stepped out of the shadows. A hand gripped her heart and twisted with a pang that felt suspiciously like betrayal as the light from the ceiling played over his features. 

“Reyes?!” she gasped, mind racing. 

He glanced at her, a brief acknowledgment, before turning his attention back to Sloane. His handsome face was empty, hard, even cruel. She had always suspected the man was more than witty banter and cheeky winks, assumed he had a darker side given how he made his living, had even imagined he might be some kind of hotshot big fish, but somehow hadn’t quite imagined that he was the Charlatan. Pieces rapidly fell into place. The confidence with which he spoke about what he thought the Charlatan would or wouldn’t do. His allegiance to the Collective, sensed as she was steered away from considering them in the Roekaar murders. His ability to find out anything and everything, far too fast. No wonder he’d always deflected her questions. It wasn’t about quiet loyalty to an unseen leader or protecting his sources as an information broker; it was because he was hiding who he was. 

Reyes was the Charlatan. The Charlatan was Reyes. 

Ryder’s head spun. What did that make her? The sunset whiskey, their night in his safehouse, the flirty emails, all of it - was she just a pawn in a larger game? Had he just been using her, capturing her heart so that he could have another game piece to play in the struggle against Sloane for Kadara? How fucking stupid had she been? Her heart thundered and she struggled to breathe until she felt SAM tweak her physiology.

Sloane said, “We’re here for the Charlatan, not some third-rate smuggler,” and half-turned, dismissing him to look around. Ryder voiced her realization, still mildly short of breath. “They’re one and the same.”

“Surprise,” Reyes said coldly. 

More pieces fell into place. “The angaran spy, your interest in the Roekaar murders, everything you’ve done has been to undermine Sloane.” She didn’t get where the mess with Zia came into it but suspected it was just part of his efforts to get her to sympathize with him. She was so. Fucking. Stupid. 

“Death by a thousand cuts,” Reyes agreed, not taking his eyes off Sloane. 

“You said you wanted to settle things. How?” Sloane seemed completely unfazed. Was Ryder the only one taken off-guard?

Reyes leaped athletically from the outcrop he’d been standing on, landing in a half-crouch before straightening and taking a step forward. With his amber-gold eyes and dark hair, he looked like a jaguar moving in on prey. Or a jackal, she thought, remembering his callsign from the fragments she’d been able to pull from his Initiative file. Ryder shivered, seeing him in an entirely new light. He’d always carried a sexy hint of danger - he was an exile and successful criminal in Kadara Port, after all. Now the strength and touch of danger she’d enjoyed in bed were coupled with power, with command. He was a man to be taken seriously, not just a flirty nobody in a dead-end backwater.

Ryder, to her intense annoyance, found herself aroused. Here was a man who could be her equal, if he succeeded. Who could help her build up a colony, keep her on her toes...if she could get past the fact that he hadn’t trusted her enough to tell her his secret. Had manipulated and used her.

That stung. 

“A duel,” Reyes was saying. “You and me, right now. Winner takes Kadara Port.” It was somehow not what she’d been expecting this to come down to. Excitement was barely contained in his voice, and she recalled the second additional life signature SAM had identified. _Oh, Reyes...what do you have planned?_

Stall. She needed to stall. Whether she wanted it or not, she would be witness to the end of the major power struggle on Kadara, would have to work with the winner to build an outpost here and ensure its success. At the moment didn’t know who she wanted the winner to be. Which would be easier to live with - Sloane’s ruthlessness or Reyes’ betrayal? She had to say something. She needed more time to think. “You want to avoid war by shooting each other?” 

“Two people shooting each other is better than a lot of people shooting each other,” he said, sounding slightly amused. She couldn’t fault his logic and said nothing, annoyed that her presence would be taken as Initiative approval of the whole mess. _Damn you, Reyes._

Sloane agreed to his terms, arrogant and cocky. Clearly confident that her quick draw would defeat Reyes. A smile quirked Reyes’ lips, so quickly that Ryder would have missed it had she not been searching his face. It wasn’t a nice smile; it was the smirk of a man who had his enemy right where he wanted her. The terrible smile of Anubis as the scales were weighed and a soul was found wanting, Ammit waiting in the waters below to devour it. Reyes had been trained as a pilot, not a soldier, so why was he so pleased? Was he that quick a draw? And where was the second human SAM had detected?

As they began to circle one another, a flash in the darkness gave her the answer. “Sniper,” SAM warned. “His sights are set on Sloane.” 

Reyes and Sloane each took another step, putting him out of, and her into, the shooter’s line of fire. The decision of who would rule Kadara was hers, whether Reyes knew it or not. Did she choose Sloane, actively hostile to the Initiative and responsible for destabilizing the port, but a known quantity? Or the man who had already demonstrated that he was willing and able to deceive her if it got him what he wanted, to use both her skills and her body, but who had worked with her to curb the violence on Kadara and help the people? Did his good deeds count if they were for his own benefit?

In the end it came down to the Initiative. However much she’d admired Jien Garson, whatever her reasons had been for rebelling, Sloane would never be a palatable choice to the Nexus, and she wouldn’t be deposed quietly. She knew war and couldn’t seem to think beyond it at a time when they had enough enemies on their hands with the kett and needed stable colonies to support the effort against them. Reyes, con artist though he was, could be worked with.

Hoping she was making the right decision, Ryder held her tongue and her fire, still jumping when she heard the shot. Sloane grunted, moaned, and fell, her life rapidly pooling under her in a puddle of crimson. 

“Bang,” Reyes said, miming a pistol with his fingers. Sloane twitched once more, as if the imaginary shot had hit her, then lay still. Just like that, his coup had succeeded. 

Ryder heard the sniper jump down from the ledge behind her. Knew she was now potentially a liability and should be on guard for a knife in the back or a gunshot to the head, but felt too numb to care. “Get her out of here,” Reyes ordered briskly, all business, his voice that of a man accustomed to being obeyed. “Prepare the crew. Kadara Port is ours tonight.”

The sniper nodded mutely, dragging away his handiwork, and Ryder signaled Drack and Vetra to help. If he wasn’t going to kill her as a loose end, she had words for Reyes Vidal. 

“Guess you got everything you wanted,” Ryder spat at him, bitter at having been so thoroughly used.

“What I want is peace. Sloane would have brought war to Heleus. We don’t have the population to survive that.” He voice wasn’t as hard as it had been, but it was still guarded. She eased her hand to her pistol, ready to use it if she didn’t like the answer to her next question. She had a feeling it would break her heart to kill him, but the ease with which he’d manipulated her made him a risk both to herself and the Initiative. She wouldn’t allow herself to be compromised by a smooth criminal if his intentions weren’t in line with hers.

“Why didn’t you trust me?” she demanded, trying for cool logic but unable to hide her hurt. Ever watchful, he had caught the movement toward her gun, was watching her hand instead of her face. “Why?!” she demanded again, voice rising with every word. For the first time she could remember, logic failed her and emotional instinct took over, washing her vision in red. “You got me to help you with your dirty business, made me think we had something, fucked the living daylights out of me, for what?!” She felt tears starting and snarled. It was rage she needed now, not heartbreak.

“Let’s talk about this, Ryder…” he said, still looking at her hand. His reasonable tone only pissed her off further. She twitched, testing him, daring him, and he moved. Like Sloane, she’d underestimated him. He was faster than she’d thought, grasping her wrist, pulling it wide, and using leverage on her arm to spin her into him. Her back was to his front, arms crossed in front of her with hands directed at her face. Using flamethrower or singularity would hurt her as much as him, and she couldn’t reach her guns. He stood spread-legged so she couldn’t stomp his instep, held his head alongside hers to avoid having his nose broken, and with her arms as they were she couldn’t thump him in the ribs or solar plexus. She probably still could have broken free had she been thinking, but she was purely reacting. She _loved_ him, goddammit, and he’d _used_ her. 

She lost her footing on the loose gravel in her struggles and took them both down. The wind was knocked out of her when she landed on her ribs and she sobbed even as she took savage pleasure in his grunt of pain when they landed sideways on the rocky ground. Between her armor and the stone, he’d be wearing bruises...if she let him live. Pained or not he didn’t let go of her, taking advantage of her temporary inability to breathe to roll them onto her stomach, himself topmost, his weight making it even more difficult to get her wind back. 

“Everything is fine,” he said somewhat breathlessly, apparently responding to a query over an earpiece. “Take the Pathfinder’s squad into custody, but don’t harm them if it can be helped. We’ll be out after we’ve finished our discussion.”

Breath restored, she started fighting him again, struggling as he wrapped his legs around hers. “Shit, Ryder, calm down!” Ryder fought harder, injured pride joining hurt and rage in the swirl of emotions. _He thinks he can use me_ and _take me down?_

Growling, he shifted his grip on her and pressed into the skin of the right side of her neck, under her jaw, with his thumb. “Pathfinder, you will lose consciousness in approximately three minutes from low blood supply to the brain,” SAM advised. She struggled harder. She could get him off in less than three minutes. Reyes dug his thumb in deeper, hard enough that she started seeing stars. 

“I don’t want to hurt you, Ryder, but I need you to get this out of your system and listen to me,” Reyes grunted. A thought cut through the fog. _This is embarrassing and beneath you, Ryder. Even Zia didn’t resort to rolling around in the dirt. Get it together and act like a grownup._ After another few seconds, she gave up, feeling dizzy, sick, and exhausted. He relaxed his hold on her throat, then let go completely when she didn’t start up again. 

“Can we talk now?” he asked. She nodded, too wrung out to protest as he shifted them to sit against the wall of the cavern. His arms loosened and she sprawled back against him, propped against his chest between his knees, head tipped back to rest on his shoulder. They sat in silence for long moments, each catching their breath. She was torn between never wanting to see him again, and wanting to stay pressed up against him forever.

“I wanted to tell you,” he finally said, sounding dejected. 

“Then why didn’t you?” she asked, equally dispirited. “You could have asked me to help you, instead of manipulating me into your plans.” 

He was silent for a moment. “I was never sure of your stance on the Charlatan. Sloane was a known factor, and you might have chosen her side to get your outpost settled. That would have ended with me dead, either eventually as your resources were gradually turned against the Collective or swiftly if you knew who I was. You didn’t see what they did to the last person they suspected of being the Charlatan,” he said with a shudder. “Can you really blame me for trying to accomplish what I set out to do, in whatever way I could, without risking a slow death by torture?”

Ryder didn’t respond, remembering her internal conflict when the sniper was revealed. Remembering her evaluation of Sloane as the known quantity and resigning herself to working with Sloane to get the outpost built on her way into this cave. She sighed and nodded. It could be another lie, but it had the ring of truth to it. 

“Are you going to kill me?” he asked. Ryder shook her head. “No. I see why you did it. I’m mad at you for using me, but I understand.” He stood, pulling her up after him. Together they started to head to the cave’s mouth, Reyes ordering his crew to stand down, release Vetra and Drack, and return to port. Ryder radioed for them to prepare the Nomad. There was an uncomfortable distance between them that pained her, but she couldn’t think of how to bridge the gap. Couldn’t decide if she wanted to, or just wanted to live and let live far away from each other.

“There was something else as well,” he admitted. He stopped walking and turned to her, the implacable mask of the Charlatan cracking suddenly, starting to reveal the man she’d seen on the shipping containers after running out of Sloane’s party with a stolen bottle of treasured whiskey. “I...liked the way you looked at me. I was afraid that would change.” 

Was that really it? She gazed at him, watching him slowly shed the Charlatan and become Reyes again. A tired, worried Reyes, more uncertain than she’d ever seen him. Was it another ruse? Was he planning to use her still? Hoping to sway her, use her contacts with the Initiative to further his aims?

Gnawing on her bottom lip, she turned that over in her mind. To what end? He had what he wanted: Kadara Port. Yes, he needed her contacts - and she needed his if Kadara was going to be a living, thriving colony world with a balance between the port and the Initiative. Trust issues aside, she liked him. Loved him, even, or she wouldn’t have lost her mind earlier. For the first time in years, counting even those before reaching Andromeda, she was able to relax and be herself around someone. Even Scott disapproved of her sometimes, but with Reyes she could just be. Didn’t have to think about putting on a good face and keeping up appearances; could just be Laz and not The Pathfinder. Now that she knew his most closely-held secret, maybe they could work on the rest. 

“Nothing’s changed,” she admitted, shoulders slumping as she released the tension of anger and hurt. If nothing else, her father’s distance from his family had taught her that you can either waste energy staying mad and holding onto hurt, or forgive and move on. _I forgive you, you bastard. Just don’t hide something this big from me again._

His head dropped slightly so that he was looking at her from under lowered brows, a predatory look filled with _want_.

“You have bad taste in men,” he breathed in a low growl as he came at her, pinning her to the wall of the cave behind her. Before she could fear that she was being betrayed for a second time his lips were on hers, consuming her with the passion of a man unburdened from his secrets, hungry for all she could give. When they broke for air she murmured in his ear, “The worst…” and nipped at his jaw. He nibbled her neck before kissing her again, and they made out like horny teenagers a while longer before she pushed him away. 

Worry flashed across his face. “Did you change your mind?” 

Ryder shook her head. “I just don’t fancy fucking with rocks in my back, so unless you’re volunteering to be on the bottom, let’s get out of here.” Grinning, Reyes offered his hand. Ryder took it with a lopsided smile, and they climbed into the bright daylight. 

“Fly back with me,” Reyes asked abruptly. “We’ll celebrate in Tartarus. Bring your crew. But tell them to come after nightfall. We have...business...to attend to.” Laughing, Ryder agreed, sending the Nomad on ahead over Vetra’s enthusiastic objections and Drack’s glares. She would get an earful from her turian friend and her adopted uncle later, but for now, she just wanted to celebrate being alive with the man who made her feel more vibrant than she ever had.

His shuttle was a short walk away, hidden in a crevice she would have sworn it was impossible to park a shuttle in. He must be a hell of a pilot, she thought, her estimation of him rising. Half the seats in the back had been removed to make more room for cargo, of which two boxes were stacked to hip-height against one bulkhead. As soon as Reyes stepped up behind her and shut the door she was on him, pushing him against the door and into a kiss. She wanted to seal their understanding, make sure they were still connected. He didn’t miss a beat, making an _mmm_ of pleasure as he gathered her hair in both hands, massaging her head gently. She started stripping her armor off, lips still locked with his. After all the tension of the afternoon, she needed to fuck him. Now. _Make-up sex is the best part of any disagreement, after all._

Armor shed, she rocked her hips, rubbing herself against his hardening erection as she undid first his belt, then hers. They came up for air and Ryder said huskily, “As pissed off as I was, there was something incredibly hot about being manhandled. Do it again.”

A sly grin spread across Reyes’ face. “As you command, _mi reina_.” Grasping her by the hips, he spun her round and propelled her towards the cargo crates. She grunted as her thighs hit first, then her chest, his hand on the back of her neck pinning her down. She squirmed as he yanked her trousers down and kicked her feet slightly wider. “Is this what you want?” he asked roughly, cock teasing her entrance. 

“Yes…”

He teased her a little longer, until she was truly begging, and then buried himself in her. She groaned and swiveled her hips, wanting to feel him on every inner surface. He chuckled in her ear, low and deep, and whispered, “You are something else, Ryder,” before withdrawing and plunging in again, hard and fast. 

They lasted longer this time, but Ryder wasn’t finished with him. “Reyes,” she panted. “I’m...mmm...I’m gonna come, but I want to taste you.”

His only response was to thrust harder, until she finished. Then he hauled her up with the hand on her neck and dropped her to her knees. She barely had time to open her mouth when he plunged in, pumping once, twice, three times before groaning and shuddering his climax, one hand fisted in her hair. She kept eye contact with him as his release hit the back of her throat, salty and slightly bitter from the whiskey he always drank. 

He helped her rise when he was spent, kissing her intensely. “I’ve never met anyone like you,” he said with feeling. 

“And you never will again,” she tossed back, licking her lips. He laughed and drew her in for a hug before edging them into the cockpit.

The shuttle’s forward viewport was steamed up. “Shit,” muttered Reyes wonderingly. “That’s never happened before.”

“Do you make a habit of fucking in your shuttle?” Ryder asked, one eyebrow arched. She laughed at the consternation on his face and threw her arms around his waist. “Let’s get back to town. We have actual business to discuss now.” 

Obviously relieved at not having to answer the question, Reyes slipped into the pilot’s seat, activated the shuttle, and lifted off.

***

They settled on the couch in his private room on returning to Tartarus. “I’m surprised we’re not in the throne room. Isn’t Tartarus a little shabby for Kadara’s new leader?” she teased. 

“Come on, Ryder. You know I prefer to rule from the shadows.” He took a sip of whiskey.

“You are a shady bastard,” she said wryly. He grinned, completely unaffected. “But a handsome one, right?” She couldn’t disagree with him there and shook her head, distracted for a moment with simply looking at the man she loved.

He reached out to brush her neck. “I’m sorry about this,” he murmured, indicating the bruise she could feel beneath her scarf. She shrugged, embarrassed by how badly she’d reacted earlier. “I was ready to kill you rather than be compromised and kind of lost my shit. You resolved the situation without killing me, and here we are making plans for the future. No blood, no foul.” She wasn’t used to the idea of loving someone, and took it as a learning experience: if she was going to love a shady bastard, she had to expect that he was going to do shady bastard things - like not tell her he was the Charlatan - and choose her responses better.

Reyes nodded solemnly and changed the topic. Apparently, Keema had agreed to front the Collective and rule in appearance, if not in truth. Remembering the sharp, bright angara from Sloane’s party, Ryder decided that would be a good solution. There was likely to be some backlash from the remaining Outcasts but Keema was known to them and would ease the transition. “I’ll start rounding up volunteers for an outpost. Might take a while - you exiles have a reputation.” 

“Not all of us are thieves and murders,” he protested, his grin widening to a full-on smile. “ _I_ am, but some of the others are perfectly nice.” The change in him was incredible, his new openness only making him more attractive as he relaxed and his affable personality shone even brighter. 

“I want the outpost here just as much as you do...and I want you here,” he continued. The intensity in his voice made her feel shy - a feeling she was not accustomed to - and she looked down. “I guess I could stop by on a regular basis,” she offered. He nodded, accepting that for now. Moving on smoothly, Reyes was generous in his promises for protecting the colony, wanting only a cut of the trade. She could live with that, and the Nexus couldn’t argue against a fair and open arrangement. Knowing Reyes there would probably be some skimming, but less than if Sloane had been in charge.

“If we’re done with all the boring business talk, there is...something I want to do.” He stood, fiddling with his omnitool. Shit. He was up to something. “I neglected you on our first date. How about we fix that?” Soft music started playing in the background as he bowed slightly, offering her a hand. This was unexpected.

“I didn’t know you had a romantic streak,” she said, allowing him to pull her up and into the center of the room. 

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.” He led her through the steps of a slow dance, holding her close. “Since leaving the Nexus, my survival has depended on secrets. I don’t want any more of those between us, Ryder.”

It was noble of him but, she suspected, unrealistic. He was the ruler of the Kadaran underworld, she was the shining light guiding the Initiative into a new galaxy - however unwillingly she’d come to her position. They would never escape having secrets between them, and insisting on it would only lead to broken promises and bad feeling later. 

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Reyes.” She rested her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes and relaxing into him. “You will have secrets, it’s who you are. Just don’t lie to me about the big stuff.”

“Thank you,” he whispered huskily.

“For what?” 

“For accepting me.”

He looked so grateful, so relieved in that moment. Whatever his failings, he did genuinely seem to be aware of them and was willing to try being better. It was, Ryder reflected, all that could really be asked of anyone. She wrapped both arms around his neck and kissed him. There was just one question left in her mind.

“Reyes…” she started hesitantly. “Does this mean we’re...a thing?”

He pulled back and cupped her cheek. “You’re my woman. I’m your man. Call it whatever you like, as long as you’re mine.” A warm flush spread through her. _I am yours, and you are mine_ , she thought, kissing him again as the music swirled around them. Nobody would approve of a relationship between the Pathfinder and a criminal mastermind, but she had never needed permission or approbation from anyone before and wasn’t about to start looking for it now.


	10. Showdown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> High Noon, from Reyes' POV

Planning his face-off with Sloane only took a day. It took another to pull the strings and grease the palms necessary to successfully have Kaetus captured and beaten to within an inch of his life, and a third to accomplish the deed and dump the turian’s body outside Outcast HQ with a note.

Sloane accepted his challenge, as he’d anticipated. Rumor in port had her fucking her lieutenant; even if she wasn’t, they’d been through a lot together. She wouldn’t take the direct insult lying down. Especially not when it came from her top, and really only, rival for control of Kadara: the Charlatan. Finding out who he was would have been enough bait for his trap, but Reyes wanted her angry, on edge. Thinking even less than usual. Thrashing Kaetus was just a bonus.

The Pathfinder’s actions to eliminate the Outcast presence on H-047c delighted him when his network of informants discovered what she was doing. Sloane was distracted, making it even easier to snatch Kaetus. They were working in partnership, and she didn’t even know it yet.  
He stayed in touch with Ryder throughout, taking care to create an alibi for himself by taking another job from the krogan buyer. He was going to reveal himself as soon as Sloane was dead, but for now, he needed her in the dark and unsuspecting. Her early return could have dire consequences. 

The morning of the agreed duel, he picked up the sniper he’d tapped for the mission and flew out early to prepare. The cave he’d chosen had a number of ledges ideal for concealing both himself and the sniper. Whether Sloane decided to fight fair or not, Reyes was not stupid. He’d never believed in fairness as a concept, having learned early on that life was inherently _un_ fair and that the people who came out on top were those who seized the advantage. This duel was about survival, and he wouldn’t apologize for coming out as the fittest in whatever way he could. 

_Two more hours_ , he thought as he glanced at his omnitool. _Two more hours, and Kadara Port is mine._ Settling into a comfortable seat against the wall, he closed his eyes and tried to figure out how he was going to explain all of this to Ryder.

***

He heard a shuttle arrive and touch down. Sloane was here. She didn’t enter the cave for long minutes, and Reyes started to grow anxious. Was his ambush about to become a trap for himself? He’d specified in the note that she was to come alone and had hoped that using her own people to beat Kaetus would convince her that nobody around her could be trusted while the Charlatan lived. 

When he heard the distinctive roar of the Nomad’s booster jets echoing into the cave, he understood. She wasn’t stupid either and had called in the Pathfinder. Shit. Did Ryder know? Had she figured it out, come along with Sloane in exchange for an outpost? She was supposed to be at H-047c, hadn’t mentioned returning to Kadara in her last message. Had he been outplayed? Grimly, he signaled to the sniper to get ready and checked his pistol in its holster. If he died here today, he was taking someone with him. 

He heard shouting from the entrance of the cave, indistinct words in Sloane’s perpetually angry tones and sarcastic responses in Ryder’s. Even if they were working together, it seemed neither was happy about it. That was good. That could be turned to his advantage. Shortly thereafter, the sounds of footsteps crunching on gravel drew closer. Reyes peeked out from behind the stone pillar he was positioned behind and peered into the main space below. Sure enough, there was Ryder, looking supremely irritated. Drack and Vetra waited farther back. This was potentially going to end very badly for him, but he was committed to his course. One way or another, this conflict ended today. He didn’t believe in a higher power but still found himself praying that Ryder would forgive him. 

As he watched Ryder in mild dismay he saw her twitch, cocking her head slightly and looking into the distance as if listening to an unheard voice. Was it her AI? Had she discovered him already? Whatever had happened, Ryder carefully distanced herself from Sloane with two small steps. Interesting. It could only mean one thing: she knew he was there. 

He had to act before she took the upper hand. “You look like you’re waiting for someone,” he called out. Ryder’s eyes widened in shock. So, she hadn’t known about him specifically. What was she doing here with Sloane, then?

Their eyes met as he stepped out of the shadows, enjoying the dramatic entrance even as he tried to stay focused. She gasped his name as if she hadn’t believed her ears. He hardened his resolve. He’d kill her if he had to, but he desperately didn’t want to. He wanted to work with her...and be with her. 

Sloane, amusingly, dismissed him out of hand. It was Ryder who breathlessly voiced the truth. “They’re one and the same.”

“Surprise,” Reyes said, feeling a cold sort of satisfaction rising in him. Ryder put the pieces together for Sloane, correctly surmising that every action he’d taken since they’d met had been part of a larger mission to undercut the Outcasts. “Death by a thousand cuts,” Reyes agreed, not taking his eyes off the pirate queen. He had to focus on Sloane. If he looked at Ryder again, saw the pain and betrayal in her voice reflected in her eyes, he was done for. 

“You said you wanted to settle things. How?” Sloane, to her credit, took the revelation in stride. The sniper signaled with two clicks in Reyes’ earpiece, indicating that he didn’t have the shot. Reyes would have to draw her out. He launched himself from the outcrop, distantly aware of Ryder shifting away as he drew closer, and proposed a duel, with the winner taking Kadara Port. 

“You want to avoid war by shooting each other?” Ryder broke in, sounding disbelieving. Reyes didn’t look at her as he answered. “Two people shooting each other is better than a lot of people shooting each other.” _And with her here, the winner would be seen as tacitly approved by the Initiative_ , he thought, finally finding the silver lining in the disaster of her presence.

Sloane agreed to his terms, obviously confident that she could outdraw him. Good. He had her right where he wanted her. 

As they began to circle one another, he saw out of the corner of his eye as Ryder shifted her head to look over his shoulder, directly at where the sniper was hidden. Shit, shit, shit. He didn’t know how she’d spotted him, well concealed above them in the darkness, but now she knew. Would she say anything? _Focus on Sloane_ , he reminded himself. He would deal with Ryder’s reaction when he had to, and focus on his real enemy first. 

Reyes and Slone took another step in their dance. The sniper signaled again with a click on the comm channel and took the shot when Reyes was clear. The bullet tore through Sloane’s heart, dropping her. 

“Bang,” Reyes said with extreme satisfaction, miming a pistol with his fingers. The bitch was dead, and with a feeling of elation, he took a moment to bask in his win. He glanced at Ryder, standing unmoving off to the side, a look of shock on her face. She truly hadn’t been expecting this. Part of him was proud for having played his role so well, while another part hated himself. He cared about her...and she must care about him too, if she looked that hurt. 

“Get her out of here,” Reyes ordered the sniper, gesturing at Slone. “Prepare the crew. Kadara Port is ours tonight.”

The sniper didn’t reply, just stepped to Sloane’s body and started dragging her out. Reyes was surprised when Ryder signaled her squad to help before turning to him.

“Guess you got everything you wanted,” Ryder barked at him. The pain in her eyes was real and deep. It poured out in her declaration and he held onto the Charlatan’s cold practicality as a shield against it. “What I want is peace,” he replied. “Sloane would have brought war to Heleus. We don’t have the population to survive that.” 

He’d watched her in battle twice now, and knew he was on thin ice when her hand drifted to her gun. _She’d kill me for this_ , he realized, cold sweat running down his spine. _Keema was right. I should have told her sooner._ He watched her hand as she berated him, anguish making her voice ragged. He was fully aware of how quickly she could bring her weaponry to bear and knew he’d have to act fast. “Let’s talk about this, Ryder,” he coaxed.

Her hand twitched, and he moved, mentally thanking his long-dead martial arts instructor at the academy for teaching him this particular move. He’d fallen out of practice, but if he did this right....and there. She was captured in his arms, her back to his front, unable to use her weapons without hurting herself in addition to him. Their closeness now was an uncomfortable mirror of the peace and comfort they’d enjoyed only a few nights prior.

The trouble was, he’d gone from having a leashed leopard to catching her by the ears, so to speak. Grabbing her probably hadn’t been the best idea; if anything it had only enraged her further. She fought him, hollering wordlessly and struggling like the wildcat she was. Reyes couldn’t let go without condemning himself. He narrowly avoided having his nose broken and was losing his grip when she slipped and pulled them both down. _Owwww...that’s going to leave a mark._ She landed worse than he did and knocked the wind out of herself, fortunately for him, allowing him to take advantage of her temporary shift in focus on trying to breathe by wrangling her onto her stomach.

“Need a hand?” one of his operatives outside asked over the comm.

“Everything is fine,” he responded, out of breath himself. Ryder fought like a possessed thing, with an uncontrolled ferocity he didn’t remember from her battles against Zia and the Roekaar. “Take the Pathfinder’s squad into custody, but don’t harm them if it can be helped. We’ll be out after we’ve finished our discussion.”

She apparently had her wind back because she started struggling against him again. He wrapped his legs around hers as she tried to kick him. “Shit, Ryder, calm down!” With a snarl of rage, Ryder fought harder. 

This temper tantrum had to stop or one of them would die before they could discuss the situation like adults. Growling, he found the spot under her jaw where the artery to her brain and a major nerve crossed, digging in with his thumb. She struggled harder. Reyes dug his thumb in deeper. He knew this would hurt her, but he needed her to calm down and he didn’t want to put her in a chokehold after finding out she had been clinically dead from asphyxiation in the accident that resulted in her father’s death and made her Pathfinder. No wonder she’d panicked when he tried playing with her scarf the other night. Were she anyone else he’d use the knowledge to hurt her psychologically, but he didn’t want to win that way. Not against her. Especially not when he was quickly discovering how much it hurt him to cause her pain.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Ryder, but I need you to get this out of your system and listen to me,” Reyes grunted. What was it with him and sleeping with women who ended up wanting to kill him? 

After another few seconds she gave up, body going slack. Had she passed out already? He relaxed his hold on her throat, hoping that she was done fighting, then let go completely when she didn’t start up again. She was still conscious, just exhausted.

“Can we talk now?” he asked. She nodded, leaving her body limp as he shifted them to sit against the wall of the cavern. She was bloody heavy in all that armor, but he managed it. He loosened his grasp, still keeping his arms around her but not trying to control her anymore, and she sprawled back against him. The reason for it aside, it was kind of nice to have her laying against his chest with her head on his shoulder, completely encircled by him. _How do I tell her? Will she even believe me? Have I lost her?_

“I wanted to tell you,” he finally said, unable to keep the note of depression out of his voice. If he’d lost her, he had only himself to blame. 

“Then why didn’t you?” she asked, sounding morose and hoarse. “You could have asked me to help you, instead of manipulating me into your plans.” 

_You’re right. I could have. But I was scared._ “I was never sure of your stance on the Charlatan. Sloane was a known factor, and you might have chosen her side to get your outpost settled. That would have ended with me dead, either eventually as your resources were gradually turned against the Collective or sooner if you knew who I was. You didn’t see what they did to the last person they suspected of being the Charlatan,” he said, not hiding his shudder of revulsion. “Can you really blame me for trying to accomplish what I set out to do, in whatever way I could, without risking a slow death by torture?”

Ryder didn’t respond for long moments. _Is she actually hearing me out?_ Finally, she sighed and nodded. Reyes felt a wash of relief flood him, but he knew he wasn’t safe yet and asked if she was going to kill him. He wouldn’t blame her for wanting to; were he in her position, the liability he represented would have made it too dangerous to allow him to live.

Ryder shook her head, saying she understood, even if she was still mad at him for it. His feeling of relief grew. If neither of them was going to shoot the other today, it was time to get out of this godforsaken cave. He stood, pulling her up when she remained seated on the ground. As they headed toward the exit Reyes ordered his crew to stand down, release her people, and return to port. Ryder ordered Drack and Vetra to prep the Nomad.

He noticed that she maintained a distance between them as they carefully picked their way over the rocky ground. _This isn’t finished, not if I want to keep her_ , Reyes realized. “There was something else as well,” he confessed. He paused in his forward movement and turned to her, forcing the Charlatan away, willing her to see that he was still Reyes. “I...liked the way you looked at me. I was afraid that would change.” 

Her eyes searched his face and she chewed on her bottom lip, an expression of uncertainty he’d never seen on her before. What did it mean? He felt balanced on a knife’s edge. Could they come back from this? Would she ever be able to trust him again? He resolved to prove to her that she could, to earn her trust and her love. He would be better, or next time he would let her kill him.

“Nothing’s changed,” she replied softly, shoulders slumping as if she was finally letting go of her anger. 

Relief flashed to desire. She was his. He had won Kadara Port, he had won the support of the Pathfinder for the Collective, and he had won her for himself. A total victory he hadn’t seen coming even a week ago, all delivered on one triumphant day. He felt a stirring in his groin as all the adrenaline pumping through him sought a new outlet. 

“You have bad taste in men,” he breathed, rushing forward to pin her to the wall of the cave. He wanted her, all of her, and tried to pour all his emotion into that kiss. When they broke for air she murmured in his ear, “The worst…” and nipped at his jaw. It seemed like he wasn’t the only one who needed to burn off some hormones. He nuzzled her neck before kissing her again, falling into her for long minutes before she pushed him away. 

Triumph turned to fear. Had she changed her mind? 

“I just don’t fancy fucking with rocks in my back, so unless you’re volunteering to be on the bottom, let’s get out of here.” Satisfaction returning, Reyes extended his hand. She took it with a crooked grin, and they climbed out to meet her crew. 

Inspiration struck. “Fly back with me,” he suggested. “We’ll celebrate in Tartarus. Bring your crew. But tell them to come after nightfall. We have...business...to attend to.” Her laughter and agreement sent his heart soaring, especially when she ignored Vetra’s objections and Drack’s evil eye, and sent the Nomad back to port without her. 

The shuttle wasn’t far. She stepped in ahead of him, turning as soon as the door whooshed shut and pressing him against the door in a kiss. Her forwardness delighted him; he hadn’t been sure if she’d be in the mood after everything that had happened. It seemed she was the type to forgive and forget, or at least he hoped she was. 

He massaged his hands through her hair, the only part of her missing armor. She got the point and started flicking seals, her armor dropping off to thud on the deck piece by piece until only her greaves and boots were left. With each thunk, Reyes’ excitement ratcheted up a notch. Then Ryder broke their kiss and said in a voice roughened by desire, “As pissed off as I was, there was something incredibly hot about being manhandled. Do it again.”

Surprise and pleasure combined to send a thrill through him. “As you command, _mi reina_.” Grasping her by the hips, he turned her and pushed her toward the stacked crates. _The krogan won’t mind if I use these, will he? Fuck it, Elaaden could use some moisture._ One hand on the crease of her hips to hinge her forward, the other on the back of her neck to pin her down. He delighted in the small noises she made. _Yesss...I’ve wanted you like this for a while, amor._ She wiggled as he tugged her trousers down and spread her feet wider. _You didn’t break free earlier, and you won’t this time either. You’re mine._ He pulled his cock out, rubbing the tip up and down along her sodden crack. “Is this what you want?” He knew it was, but he still wanted to hear her say it. She moaned an affirmative, but he wanted more. 

With cock and fingers he tempted her, until her pleading became frayed and incoherent with want, and then drove himself into her long and slow. When he was all the way in, leaning over her to cover her body with his, she moaned and rotated her hips in little circles. His joy at her pleasure in him escaped as a low laugh. He couldn’t believe this woman. “You are something else, Ryder,” he told her gently, before pulling back and thrusting in again. He’d meant to go slower this time, but the day’s stress and triumph wouldn’t allow him to take her gently.

He was almost there when Ryder said she wanted to taste him, struggling to get the words out around her moans. It was nearly his undoing on the spot but he was determined to maintain his reputation as a lover. Still, it was a close thing when she shuddered under him and cried out. That was his cue. She barely made it to her knees in front of him when he plunged in. It was the work of seconds for him to find his peak and he groaned, one hand holding her close as he looked down to see her gazing up, her jaw and throat working around him. _That mental image will be the source of fantasies for many nights to come._

He wanted nothing more than to flop back on the bench behind them and recover, but they needed to get back to Tartarus. “I’ve never met anyone like you,” he purred as he helped her stand.

“And you never will again,” she threw back saucily, pink tongue running over her lips. He couldn’t help laughing at her cockiness. _She’s right about that...I need to keep this woman, whatever the cost,_ he thought. Ryder was the kind of crazy that would keep him alert and thinking, blended with a self-sacrificing nobility that would inspire him to be better. She had the brains to help him with his intel-gathering, the firepower to defend their interests, the beauty to look good at his side, and the sexual appetites of...well, himself. And now that he could be honest with her about who he was and what he did, maybe they could communicate openly enough to avoid any more life-or-death situations when they disagreed. She was all he’d ever looked for and been disappointed never to find. They’d passed through fire this afternoon, and he sensed they’d be stronger for it. 

The foggy forward viewport threw him for a loop. This wasn’t the first time things had gotten steamy in the shuttle, but it was the first time they’d gotten _that_ steamy. He wasn’t sure how to respond when Ryder teased him about it - would she be jealous to know she wasn’t the first partner he'd had in this shuttle? But she only laughed at his dismay and wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her head against his back for a moment. “Let’s get back to town. We have actual business to discuss before we can party with the rest of the port.” 

She was right about that. Now the real work for Kadara would begin. As he carefully maneuvered out of the rock crevice and into the air, he turned his mind from her hot little body to all the things they needed to accomplish together.

***

Reyes was thinking that he would never be able to sit on the couch in Tartarus with her and not remember the first night she’d come over. She broke into his recollection, wondering why they weren’t in the throne room. He’d considered it but had become too accustomed to working from the shadows.

“You are a shady bastard,” she said, a faint hint of mockery in her voice. His relief at secrets shared made him bold. “But a handsome one, right?”

She only snorted a laugh and shook her head. The light fell on a bruise forming on her neck, half-covered by her scarf, where he’d throttled her earlier. “I’m sorry about this,” he murmured, reaching out to brush the spot gently. He felt ashamed. If he had been honest with her sooner, maybe it would never have come to that. She shrugged. “I was ready to kill you rather than be compromised and kind of lost my shit. You resolved the situation without killing me, and here we are making plans for the future. No blood, no foul.”

Relieved, he changed gears and they discussed the future of the Collective and the outposts, for once able to set aside their sexual desires for long enough to sketch the outline of a future for Kadara. Keema would front him, allowing him to keep his identity a secret for the time being. Ryder would start getting volunteers together for the outpost. She didn’t bat an eye when he admitted to being a thief and a murderer in laughing tones. Good. She knew what he was, and she wasn't heading for the door.

“I want the outpost here just as much as you do...and I want _you_ here,” he said when she asked about his plans for dealing with the Initiative settlement. His directness made her glance down. _Shyness? That’s a new look on you, Ryder_. She agreed to stop in more regularly, reassuring him that their connection wasn’t just a one-time deal. Which meant it was safe for him to pull his last trick for the day out of the proverbial hat. “If we’re done with all the boring business talk, there is...something I want to do.” 

He tapped a few commands into his omnitool, selecting a song that was slow, romantic. “I neglected you on our first date. How about we fix that?” Standing, he bowed slightly, offering her a hand. The look of amused surprise on her face was priceless. 

“I didn’t know you had a romantic streak,” she said, putting her hand in his. He pulled her up and led her to the clear space in the middle of the room. 

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.” It was an understatement. Reyes had been hiding the depths of his true self from everyone for so long that he had a strong aversion to letting anyone in. He was comfortable with the idea that he always had been, and always would be, a scoundrel and a hustler, using his wits and good looks to charm and con his way through life rather than abiding by a system he didn’t fully believe in. He was also comfortable with the shadowy lifestyle that resulted. But for her, he’d make the effort to be open. “Since leaving the Nexus, my survival has depended on secrets. I don’t want any more of those between us, Ryder.”

It was the single greatest thing he’d ever offered anyone and he wondered if she understood what it said about his feelings for her. He wasn’t even sure if he could live up to it, but he was determined to try. 

She didn’t answer immediately, thinking it over. Maybe she did understand. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Reyes,” she murmured, relaxing into him with her head on his shoulder. Letting him guide her through the steps of their dance. “You will have secrets, it’s who you are. Just don’t lie to me about the big stuff.”

“Thank you,” he whispered, feeling his throat tighten.

“For what?” 

“For accepting me.” If before he’d been determined to keep her, now he would die for her. As quick and tumultuous as their courtship had been, Reyes knew deep down that there was no other woman in two galaxies for him. All his life, he’d wanted to _be someone_ without really having any idea who that someone was or how to become him. In this moment, her arms around his neck and her lips on his, he finally felt like _someone_ was _himself_. Criminal, smuggler, and information broker, but also lover, partner, and ally. A mafioso ruling from the shadows, but working with his better half toward a viable future for Kadara. Darkness and light, life and death, in balance. 

“Reyes…” the hesitation in her voice made him pull back and look at her. “Does this mean we’re...a thing?”

He cupped her cheek gently, still reeling from his internal revelations and touched by her concern. “You’re my woman. I’m your man. Call it whatever you like, as long as you’re mine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's a wrap! Thought about writing a bit of what comes next but liked this ending and will just have to start a new fic (or drabbles). 
> 
> Sincere thank you to everyone who has been reading, commenting, giving kudos, and sending encouragement. This is my first multi-chapter work and to be honest I was a little intimidated by the idea and scared of how it would be received. I appreciate you guys and can't thank you enough for joining me in this story!


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